Not Crazy
by Batsy122
Summary: Just misunderstood... Joker wants to prove himself by any means necessary. Rated T with occasional M. male/male relationships, so stray from this if that's not your thing
1. Falling Clowns

Hello 8D

Here's _Not Crazy_, my brand new Batman/Joker fanfic. This, I think is going to be my best one yet. It's going really well. I just hope everyone else thinks the same~

So read and enjoy, don't forget to leave a review. Your words help me write the rest of the story ^ w^~

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"Back off Batboy!!" the Clown Prince growled.

A small, frightened boy dangled from the edge of the Wayne Industries building. The child had already passed out from shock before Batman got there. Joker's antics were boiling the blood in his veins.

"Put. Him. Down." Batman said as calmly as his nerves would allow.

His fists clenched, making the kevlar gauntlets squeak damply. If the clown didn't let go soon, he'd have to make him. He and the villain had been at it for more than an hour now, the Dark Knight was sure he had broken something in the clown's body. Their battle was at a stand still now though. Joker had snatched the child from his mother on the way up to the rooftop. Batman followed quickly only to see the jester bouncing the boy like a yo-yo over the edge of the skyscraper. His animalistic rage bubbled over at the sight; The clown using the boy as a toy _and _a shield.

"Oooh why don't you make me Battykins~?" the purred, the chid and him balancing on the edge like a circus act.

All it would take was a sideways wind and Joker would tumble off the building, taking the boy with him. With such a delicate balance, Bruce's heart raced at unbelievable speeds. The boy stirred in Joker's lap. Both men's eyes darted towards the wriggling form. A keen smirk playing across the clown's lips. Batman prayed in vain that his enemy wouldn't do what he was expecting. The boy finally awoke, staring up at Joker until he registered who it was. The boy began to kick and scream, throwing Joker off balance. He and the clown fell forward off the building.

"NO!" Bruce cried and launched the batgrappler to the top of Wayne Industries as he leapt over the edge. That haunting smile stayed glued to his face as the boy screamed for his mother.

As if time had stood still, Bruce wrapped his arm around Joker and the child in his arms, straining to keep them up as they neared the ground. The batgrappler retracted as they dropped to the street. Batman quickly got up and moved the now unconscious males to the sidewalk before a car came by. Bruce coughed and panted as he leaned over the two. Police sirens weren't too far away. They should have the mother with them. Bruce looked over Joker's body, searching for any serious injuries. Villain or not, he couldn't be responsible for his death. Batman came upon two rather deep lacerations in his left side, where Batman's spiked gauntlet had dug into his flesh. After looking over those, Batman caught sight of a large pool of blood towards his lower abdomen, along with a head injury from the fall. He sighed heavily as he caught sight of the police. He clicked a button on his belt to autopilot the batmobile towards them and stood. He took the child and laid him on a nearby bench under a street lamp. The batmobile came to a screeching halt and opened for him. He couldn't leave the clown here to be taken back to Arkham just yet, the doctors there wouldn't treat his wounds which would most likely end in infection. He again couldn't let clown prince die by his hand. He growled and heaved Joker into the sleek black car, closed the top and sped off as the police came into his sideview mirrors.

In case the unconscious Joker woke up or was faking by now, Batman took care to make the ride there longer. Along the way, Joker twitched and tiny whimpers emitted from his throat. Pain shock he figured. Bruce sighed and pressed the button to phone Alfred. That familiar accented falsetto came on over the speaker.

"Master Bruce~" he said, just as gracefully as usual.

"Alfred, I need you to get the medical kit ready," he sighed, "We've got a surprise guest..."

"Very well, Master Bruce. The cave I suppose?"

"Yes Alfred."

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	2. Playing Doctor

Aaah, Joker's at his cutest when he's hurt x3

He knows Battykins won't punch him in the face for acting like a small boy XD

Please review if you read ^ w^~

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As the batmobile screeched to a halt, Bruce leapt out of the car and dashed to the other side. Batman grunted as he hauled the Joker's dead weight out of the vehicle. The old butler rushed to his side, his hear skipped a beat as he laid eyes on the face of the Clown Prince of Crime.

"Master Bruce!" he scolded, "What ARE you doing with this psychotic clown?!"

"Can it Alfred. You know _no one _dies by my hand." he growled, "Just help me get him out."

Alfred sighed and hooked his arms under the clown's as Bruce took hold of his legs. Joker was quite a bit lighter than what he looked. Every time they had it out, Batman noticed the ever-present purple suit coat. The coat made the clown's body look bulkier than it was, now that he had the opportunity to carry an unconscious Joker, he found that he might be doing more damage to him than he thought. The worry was slight though, Bruce shook it off and dragged the clown to the medical table. Alfred reluctantly brought the supplies to Bruce and began helping him suture and clean Joker's wounds. They removed the coat and vest from him, careful not to split open the clotting wounds. Bruce unbuttoned his shirt, gently peeling it from the pale body.

"Please take care of those ones under his ribs, Alfred." he said monotonously, pointing to the two lacerations along the bottom of his ribcage.

Alfred nodded and solemnly went to work stitching up the cuts. Bruce, on the other hand, studiously cared for the hundreds of cuts on the clown's abdomen.

"_I didn't make these..._" Bruce thought.

He stood a moment, assessing the wounds before an idea came to mind. Turning, he rummaged carefully through the pile of purple fabric. Just as he thought, a multitude of unsheathed knives sticky with drying blood were hidden and poking through the inside pockets of the suit coat Bruce sighed and hurried back to his "patient" noticing Alfred had already cleaned the wounds on his abdomen, beginning to suture them as well. After a long hour of stitching and cleaning the jester's wounds, they had finally closed them and covered them with clean bandages.

To be careful, Bruce cuffed the Joker to the metal railing of the table side.

"Thank you Alfred."

"Of course Master Bruce." Alfred said blatantly.

Alfred took the tray of bloodied gauze pads and unused utensils back upstairs, closing and locking the door behind him. Bruce flopped down in his computer chair, reclining slightly and leaning his head back. Only the Joker would give him this much trouble. He'd only keep the clown here until he healed, then it'd be straight back to Arkham. Although it would probably be safer for the city if he just left him cuffed to that table. Arkham wasn't strong enough to hold Joker in.

As if on cure, there was a faint rustling from the table. Bruce jumped up from the chair, hands shooting up to his head to make sure his cowl was still on. A muffled moan emitted from the clown as Batman neared the table. Hazy emerald eyes blinked open, dazed as he stared up towards the ceiling of the cave. The light from above the table fogged his view and made him squint to see anything. Batman shut the light off, standing at the head of the table.

"...B-Batman?" Joker muttered in disbelief.

He tried to raised his arm but failed as he found the cuff on his wrist. He sighed and put the cuff on his wrist. He sighed and put the cuffed arm down. Upon bringing the other one up, he brushed against the sutures on his ribs. He yelped and sat straight up. As soon as he sat up, he flopped back down with another yelp of pain. Batman just watched until he was calmed down. Joker's chest heaved with broken breaths.

"Finished?" he said gently.

Joker nodded weakly and let his eyes slide shut.

"Jeeze 'd you do to me this time?" he chuckled.

"I..." he sighed. '_I did nothing_' wouldn't work this time. Almost all the wounds there were by him, "Don't worry about it now. Lay back down and sleep." His words were harsh, detached of emotion.

"Oh my, a bit in denial Batsy?" he purred lazily.

"Can it Joker. As soon as you're healed you're going back to Arkham."

"What~? You don't enjoy my company?" he played the innocent teen as he glanced lovingly up at the Batman.

"Not one bit." he growled.

The cowled man turned away and headed for his chair again. Far away from that psycho clown. He was stopped in his tracks as that dreadful falsetto rang throughout the cave.

"Oh but Battykins, don't I get any blankets? It's rather cold in here~" he giggled.

Batman growled low in his throat. He turned towards a small side table, rummaging through it and pulling out a black blanket. Jogging down the slight stairs, he reached the medic table and flopped the blanket, neatly folded on the clown's face.

"Hey!" he emitted a muffled cry.

Batman sighed angrily and hurried back to his chair. He had a feeling it would be a long night.

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	3. Agitating Silence

Sorry for such a short chapter this time around. It's just the building up to good story I suppose, they'll start to get longer soon, so keep reading~

Don't forget to review, your words help me write the rest of the story :]

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On a fuzzy monitor, Batman watched as idle hands twitched and pulled at the fabric of the blanket. Bruce had moved Joker into a locked and barricaded prison-like cell. He couldn't handle having the clown outside of it to taunt and tease him to the point of wanting to beat him to death. Even though he was beyond that, he had a feeling it wouldn't be so easy to keep calm while the clown prince was in his vicinity.

Joker was oddly quiet and still. Bruce had a sickening feeling the clown was plotting something every time he went into that ghastly silence. Quiet wasn't a word in Joker's vocabulary, he was always loud an theatrical in his ways, attracting attention from whoever he could. Quiet? Not at all. Batman stood and took a quick look over the clown's image before heading back up the dark stairwell. Sadly enough, he had to keep the criminal alive long enough to heal before he could throw him back into Arkham, and the only way to do that was to keep him locked down, fed and watered. It was like watching some body's dog rather than keeping a criminal mastermind in holding. And Joker was a sort of rabid rottweiler in disguise as a man, waiting under that disguise until he got close enough. Only then would he turn frantic and begin thrashing and biting at his hands. He shook his head of the riling thoughts and turned back to the task at hand.

To his surprise, Alfred had already made a platter of something for him and his captive. On it was a small note.

_"Master Bruce,  
Out for groceries. Try to keep that creature in it's cage while I'm gone.  
-Alfred"_

"Yessir." Bruce mumbled. Alfred wasn't going to let him live it down, bringing such a dangerous man into their private household had unsettled the old man. Bruce had no other choice though. It was either break his One Rule, or keep the best at bay. He'd rather settle for the latter. Bruce gathered up the platter and headed back down the stairs.

Not much to his surprise, Joker was still laying there, silently pulling the blanket apart. It made him wonder what could possibly be going through the clown's mind to make him so quiet. Undoing the various locks on the heavy door, Batman headed over and set the other's portion of food on a table beside him.

"Eat." he growled harshly, he wished it would be okay to let the clown starve and die of natural causes, but he couldn't deal with that either.

Joker flinched noticeably at his harsh tone. Without a word, he carefully sat up, not wanting to agitate his wounds. He shakily grabbed at his plate and fork, not taking a notice to what was on the plate, but rather just taking a bite out of whatever it was. It wasn't disgusting, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment.

After Joker had eaten a bit, Batman turned and started back out the cell. Before closing it, he acknowledged the clown momentarily.

"I'm done for the night. Someone will come down to collect the dishes." he said flatly and disappeared behind the door, locking each and every bolt on the way back upstairs.

The clown prince dropped his fork with a loud clank of metal against porcelain and shoved it off his lap onto the cold hard floor. It fell with a startling crash. Shards of the plate flew every which way. Without bothering to care about his wounds, Joker flopped back down. He moaned in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the pain and all thoughts out. Angry tears slipped out the corners, streaking down his cheeks and disappearing in his tangled mane of green.

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	4. Help Me?

This is kind of a filler chapter, it's just cute I guess x3

Don't forget to review, your words help me write the rest of the story :]

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The next morning, Bruce awoke to the irritating bedside alarm. Resisting the urge to smash the device, he clicked it off and stood from the bed. He'd have to cal in to work today, say he was sick or something. Lucius would cover for him anyway. Leaving the Joker alone wouldn't be a good idea. Even if he was in the secured room, Joker could possibly find a way out. The only thing "stopping" him now was his body, and even then Bruce wasn't so sure Joker would stay down for long.

Bruce sighed and headed towards the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, he went downstairs to find Alfred. Not much to his surprise, Alfred had already made his breakfast along with a plate to take down to Joker.

"Would you like me to take it down to him sir?" Alfred spoke up.

"I'll do it Al." he didn't want to have Alfred around the Joker, it just didn't seem right.

"Very well, I'll go start on the laundry." he said monotonously and turned away down a hall.

With that, it was just Bruce. He hadn't heard a noise from the clown ever since last night. He wasn't sure what Joker was up to. After he left the room last night he stayed a moment to watch the clown over the intercom to make sure he wasn't eating just to please Batman, although he wasn't quite sure Joker would ever do that he stayed anyway. He wasn't expecting to see Joker destroy his dining-ware and huddle in his corner like a child. Plotting against him would do him any good in his current condition. Bruce glanced down from his own food. He had lost his appetite thinking about it. He stood from the table, Joker's food in hand.

Bruce climbed into the Batsuit and descended down into the cave, stopping momentarily to glance at the monitor. The sad mess of bandages and cloth seemed like he was still sleeping, but it was hard to tell whether he was faking or not. He'd just have to keep watch until he decided to wake up. He quietly reopened the cell and set the plate by his bed again, hoping the scent of food would wake him up seeing as he didn't eat the night before.

He decided to check on the city while he waited. The batcomputer flicked on with a welcome glow. Typing in a few passwords and keywords, the local news channel flashed on.

_"In News Today: The Clown Prince of Crime; Missing or Dead? Recent reports from Arkham Asylum tell that the infamous Joker is loose from captivity. Word has is that the city's own Dark Knight is holding him or has already killed The Joker. In other news, Batman himself is missing as well. Could the Ace of Knaves and the Dark Vigilante be in holding somewhere? Or have the two finally taken each other's live? More tonight at--"_

Bruce cut of the feed, he didn't need to hear anymore. So they hadn't taken too long to consider him dead. How grateful his citizens were. He shoved the thought aside, he and the clown would unfortunately be back in action soon. Although he hoped Joker would just stay in Arkham, he couldn't let his guard down. The moment he did that, his throat would be slit, no doubt literally.

Turning back to the monitor and the sleeping Joker, he noticed a small smile on his face. Now that was a genuine smile, not one of his creepy grins. It made Bruce smile a tiny bit as well, wondering what it was Joker was dreaming about that was making him so happy. Probably Batman, he chuckled to himself, that crazed clown thought of nothing else.

Just as he stopped thinking about it, the clown began rolling around, slowly waking up. He fidgeted against the wall. His eyes blinked open, forrest green eyes darted around the room trying to acquire a sense of where he was at. A muffled moan rang through the room. He slowly rolled into an upright position. His eyes widened a bit when he seemed to notice something in front of him. Batman glanced around the room from the monitor's view and found nothing. Was Joker still asleep?

"Meh...?" Joker muttered, his mind still too hazy to know what was going on, "I'm still dreaming aren't I? Batman would never have me this close to him."

Joker sighed and gently lay back down, trying to rid his mind of the imaginary Batman next to him.

"Goodnight, Dream Batty. Go away and leave me be." he mumbled and pulled the blanket over his head.

Bruce was speechless. What Joker had said had surprised him. Joker was dreaming that he was in the room with him. He stood from the chair, once more going over to open the barricade into Joker's cell. If Joker was hallucinating, there might be more damage than he thought. He grabbed a handful of the blanket and lifted it off his head.

"Joker wake up. I'm right here." he muttered.

Joker opened one eye, looking over the dark figure looming above him.

"Well what do you want then? Are you gonna hurt me some more? Maybe break a few more ribs this time? Break my skull perhaps?" Joker's words were bitter and dripping with acid.

Bruce was at a loss yet again. The clown had a nasty habit of that as of late. He ignored the other's words, not matter how much they agitated him. He let the blankets fall back down on the clown's face.

"You need to eat. I can imagine you're rather not die of malnutrition and your wounds getting infected." he muttered, not showing any sign of emotion, "Food is beside you."

"Thanks Batboy..." he quipped bitterly.

Batman turned and slammed and locked the door. He'd stray from watching the news for a while. He flicked the console back on and began checking criminal activities, seeing if anything was new.

Joker just sat and stared after Batman, not wanting him to be so far away, but not wanting to come back. He was torn and confused and in pain. He couldn't even tell what part of his body hurt anymore. All he knew was that it hurt, badly. he decided to eat whatever it was that Batman brought down to him. Maybe then he would feel at least a little better. Quietly uncovering the plate, he got a warm inhale of pancakes and syrup. His stomach growled, forcing him to quickly begin eating. Not but ten minutes later, he was finished and full. At least he wasn't hungry now. He still hurt though, a bit worse now. If it didn't stop soon he might vomit breakfast right back up. The worst thought came to mind just then. Joker was about to ask Batman if he had any painkillers. Yeah right! The dark knight giving painkillers to the criminal he hurt. Insane. But on the other hand, he had brought him here to fix him...

"Batman...." he whined nervously, but loud enough to hope he would be hear outside of the room, "Batman help me...."

Bruce instinctively turned to the monitor, worried by habit by such a helpless sounding call. But before he started over, he caught himself and stopped. If he were to go over there he might get stabbed with a fork or something. He glanced to the monitor, over to the plate and Joker's hands. Everything was back on the plate and Joker's hands were wrapped around his waist. He stood and walked the rest of the way to Joker's cell, unlocking and entering the room. He stood at the bedside, careful not to be too close in Joker's reach.

"What?" he said roughly.

Joker's eyes had stayed widened since he heard the locks opening. How unexpected, he actually answered him.

"I...help me please..." he said shakily.

'Please.' That wasn't a word usually in Joker's vocabulary. Now to figure if he was genuinely in need of his help. Bruce cautiously took a step forward.

"What's wrong?" he quipped.

Joker couldn't look at the Batman. He turned his head down, trying to avert his gaze from the other.

"I-I hurt...alot." he said softly, voice barely over a whisper.

"I would only expect so..." batman said mockingly, "I'll get something for you."

Joker's heart skipped a beat. Was that a bit of niceness from the Batboy? He couldn't tell. He watched as Batman disappeared back out the door, listening to the sound of a drawer opening and the rustling of its contents. It sounded like glass bottles of some sort. Once Batman was back in view, Joker noticed a small bottle full of clear liquid in one hand. The silver cap on top indicated its use. He had a needled syringe in the other, and as if a practiced doctor, he pulled the liquid from the bottle and flicked it, ridding it of air bubbles.

"Give me your arm." he quipped.

Joker wearily raised his arm towards the taller male. Batman held it between his side and his arm. He took a cotton ball of alcohol and swabbed the injection area clean. Quickly, he poked the needle, gently releasing the fluid into the clown's veins. Joker whimpered slightly as he felt it burn through his body. His arm involuntarily shook in the Bat's grasp.

"What did you put in me Bats....?" he moaned.

"Morphine. You'll be knocked out for a while." he said, unusually gentle as he set the syringe on the table.

Joker's eyes fogged as he fell unconscious. Batman caught his back before he hit his head on the wall and gently lay him back down, covering him back with the blanket.

"That should keep him quiet for a while." he mumbled.

He turned away from the sleeping clown, his cape fluttering softly. He decided it would be good to get out while Joker was sleeping. He couldn't stay locked up in his home, not even his home, but the cave, much longer. He couldn't be cooped up like that. the Dark Knight locked the cell back up and wandered up the stairs and out of the cave. He wasn't surprised to see his butler handling a basket of clothing.

"Evening, Master Bruce." he quipped.

Batman pulled the cowl off, taking a heavy breath before turning to Alfred.

"Hi Al." he sighed.

"I would assume the clown is away?" he said, eyebrow raised.

"He's knocked out. He was in pain so I gave him a shot of morphine." he said nonchalantly as he unclipped his cape.

"Ah, will you be needing a shower then?"

"Yes, please, Al."

Alfred nodded and disappeared towards the bathroom. Bruce sighed, maybe he wouldn't be going out. Now that the suit was coming off, he was starting to get tired. It was as if a huge weight was being lifted off his shoulders, a bit literally. He hoped the rest of his team was taking care of the city was down. If not, there would be an enormous amount of trouble by the time Joker was better. Bruce wandered towards the bathroom, meeting there a hot steaming bath instead of a shower. Alfred always saw right through him. The bath looked so inviting after such a hard couple of days. his muscles ached from being in the batsuit for almost two entire days, his body wasn't quite used to it.

He sighed, peeling off the last of the suit and dropping it on the floor. Stepping into the water, a small hiss left his lips, the heat tingling around his muscles, inviting a relaxing embrace. With his entire body submersed, he felt his eyes slide shut. He might fall asleep if he stayed in too long. He sat up, reaching towards a bottle of shimmering white shampoo. Quickly he washed himself, massaging his sore arms and legs. He decided to get out before he fell asleep and drowned. He got out and wrapped himself in a clean white towel. Drying off his hair as he walked out, he came upon a set of pajamas Alfred set out.

_"Sorry Al." _he thought faintly.

He had to stay down in the cave to make sure Joker stayed breathing as he slept. He gathered the pieces of the batsuit from the bathroom before he went down the stairs. Alfred was nowhere to be found along the way. Perhaps he was asleep already? Bruce smiled slightly. The old man was showing his age lately. He stopped in the kitchen on the way down and put on the suit. Once he was clothed again, he grabbed a quick drink of water and disappeared behind the old clock. He tried to stay silent as he descended down the stairs, but his boots had other ideas. They clunked down the stairs, muffled only by the damp cave. Joker came into view as he neared the computers. The blanket he was covered with was now only covering half his body. His entire upper body was uncovered and his arm hung off the edge of the bed. The clown's face was surprisingly peaceful as Batman watched over him. He looked like a small child despite the messy greasepaint makeup and stringy green hair. He couldn't help but smile at the bitter sweet scene. Suddenly he yawned, realizing what he had come down there for. But before he relaxed himself, his mind shuffled around to the barricade on Joker's door. It was a pain to undo all those locks...He scuffled over to the door and quietly undid all but one of the bars, that should make it easier for him and Joker would still be locked in. He turned back to his chair, taking one last look over the clown one last time before he fell asleep. In the back of his mind he thought Joker looked cute when he slept, but that thought was quickly shoved as far back as it could.

"_I need sleep..."_ he thought wearily.

He turned away from the monitor and sat back in his chair. He sighed and let his entire body relax and his eyelids slide shut. Not soon after, Bruce was deep asleep.

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	5. Midnight Attack

Sorry for taking so long to update  
Here's chapter five, enjoy and don't forget to review if you read~

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Hazy green eyes slowly blinked open, still heavy with sleep. Joker rolled onto his back, not quite sure where he was at yet. A loud pop came from his spine, relaxing him a bit. He brought his hands up to open his eyes but stopped when he noticed something off. There was a crack in the doorframe. Glancing around and remembering where he was at, he stood and practically crawled to the door. He tested it by gently prodding at it with one hand. It moved, but only slightly. Something was still holding it back. It hadn't moved before. Had Batboy forgotten to lock it completely? He set to work quickly unlocking the door with ease. Had Batman _meant _to not put all the locks on? From the looks of it, some of the locks were electronic pass codes to keep him from picking it from inside. He shoved the thought aside when the Bat himself came into view. His eyes widened a bit when they fell upon the sleeping man. The Dark Knight had been there this whole time…watching him sleep? The screen next to Bat glowed with an image of the cell Joker had just escaped from. Was Batman protecting him? No no…the thought was ridiculous all on its own. Joker sighed.

"_Just trying to make sure I don't get out…"_ he thought demurely.

He was beginning to believe the Bat really did just want him dead, and nothing more. Oh wait, "behind bars," not dead. Batman would never purposely kill anyone or anything. That was why the clown had been in that cell this whole time anyway. Batman didn't want to have Joker's blood on his hands…

He felt his face grow hot with frustration. He closed the distance between him and the sleeping Batman. His hand held gently over his abdomen to keep his wounds from opening again. He hadn't moved this much in a few days, his legs were shaky and barely able to hold his weight. He wondered if Batman would wake if he touched him. He rested his hand on the hardened muscles of his thigh, cased in his signature black Kevlar. He glanced upwards at the other's eyes, making sure they were still closed. He sighed gently and climbed into Batman's lap. The strain on his back was painful at first, but went away soon as he eventually relaxed against Bat's chest. Good thing he was sleeping or Joker would probably be more than half dead. He couldn't possibly get this close to Batman any other time. Batman couldn't stand the thought of Joker touching him in any way. He treated him as if he was some deadly virus that would burn the skin on contact. He sighed again; he'd been doing that too often as of late.

He let his hands ghost over Batman's chest and shoulders, eventually running up to the sides of his face, careful not to touch the exposed skin there just yet. He could feel steady breath on his neck, making him shiver slightly. His eyes grew hazy as he neared the others, now only mere centimeters from Batman's face. Such soft looking lips…The Bat was human after all. He had such a pleasant scent. Joker could live the rest of his life with nothing left but the memory of this moment. They were never this close unless there was a knife against one of their throats. The atmosphere was gentle; much unlike the usual pins and needles. Joker had a sudden spark of either bravery or insanity. He breathing shaky, he pressed his lips to Batman's, savoring the sweet taste of the peachy flesh. His spine tingled as he felt a heavy hand press against his lower back.

No…Batman was awake…His eyes shot open, electric green, wide with fright, locking onto an unforgiving pair of ice blue, foggy with sleep. His whole body froze and he tensed as he waited painfully for a reaction. Batman's eyes finally registered who it was on his lap, surprised at just who was kissing him. He growled low in his throat, and without thinking, shoved the Joker off his lap and onto the hard stone floor. A high pitched screech of pain rang, earsplitting, through the cave. Joker lay shivering on the floor, a sickeningly warm, sticky, sensation pricked at his abdomen. He reached down to feel, but was knocked out cold before he could figure out what it was.

Batman was still hazy in sleep as he stood; trying to register just what was going on. He blinked quickly to rid his eyes of sleep. Staring down, he made out the outline of Joker's limp body. He knelt down beside him, calculating the damage. Dark liquid surrounded his lower half. Not good, he was covered on blood. Batman lifted his shirt, soaked through by now. The once stitched up lacerations were now split and flooding. He heaved the clown into his arms and carried him to the table. He yelled hazily into an intercom for Alfred and went to fixing Joker.

"Why must this man cause so many problems…even when no one is around…" he mumbled.

With the precision of practiced surgeon, Batman quickly cleaned and re-sutured most of the gushing wounds. Eventually, Alfred appeared by his side, lending a hand when needed. Not long after, Joker's body was fixed as much as he and the old man could get it without being able to check inside the clown.

"Alfred, he needs to get checked. He hit his back hard, something might've gotten broken or fractured."

His voice was soft but strong and demanding, as if he were trying not to wake the sleeping beast. Alfred nodded solemnly.

"Very well sir. I will call Gotham General and start the tumbler."

Without another word, Batman was left with Joker out cold on the table. Bruce thought a moment. Now the stupid clown had no shirt. Cut up the first one and bled through the second. Nothing but trouble this man was.

But what caused this whole ordeal…that's what troubled the Dark Knight. He subconsciously touched his fingers to his lips, remembering the feel of the other man on him. He had been curious to see what the Joker wanted as he climbed on top of him, that's why he hadn't woken up right away. He didn't want to hurt him any more than he already had…but he surprised him. When Bruce got surprised, instincts kicked in and first instinct was to get who or whatever was touching him off in any way possible. Batman turned to Joker, his breathing was shallow and he looked in pain even as he was unconscious. The clown was had too small of a frame to be taking such discipline. In his current state, he looked as if all his bones would break if the man simply tripped and fell. Batman brushed a few strands of green hair out of his eyes. If he wasn't a psychotic first-class criminal, he would be a sweet man. It made him wonder what could've possibly happened to make him what he is now…

Alfred came back down the stairs.

"They're sending an ambulance now Master Bruce."

Batman nodded solemnly and carefully heaved Joker back into his arms, making sure not to reopen the sutures yet again.

"Thank you Alfred." He said sincerely.

He knew Alfred wouldn't enjoy taking care of the harlequin, but the old man stayed as true to his word as ever and helped him anyway.

Alfred simply nodded, holding the door open for Bruce and his victim. Even Alfred couldn't help but notice how helpless the clown looked. He hated him, but he looked like a small injured child laying there in Bruce's arms. He couldn't help but help take care of him; habit from working for Bruce since he was a child he supposed.

Eventually all of them were outside of the mansion, waiting for the ambulance. It was raining…dark and grungy to fit the ever lowering mood. Using his cape, Bruce sheltered Joker's limp body from the icy rain. Wailing sirens were nearing the estate, the red and blue bounced off the surrounding buildings and streets. The vehicle parked in front of them and emptied out a few paramedics. The stopped in hesitation when the saw who it was and a hint at who it was he was holding. Batman glared daggers and instantly they were back to work. Soon they had Joker strapped to a board and secure in the ambulance. Batman put his act back on quickly to mask the fact that this was his home.

"Thank you for your help sir." He directed towards Alfred.

Once the ambulance was shut up, it sped off back to Gotham General. Batman had scared the paramedics to the far corners of the ambulance after they were done with Joker. An image of irony pictured before them; The Dark Knight faithfully at the Clown Prince's side.

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	6. Take Me Home Bat

Guys, I'm excited.  
Batman: The Animated Series is coming back on air.  
I haven't seen that on my television since I was little.  
I've already set my DVR to tape the series . 3.  
I can't wait to watch it 8'D

Oh, and sorry for such a delay in this and last chapter. School and work has been keeping me busy :'D

Don't forget to read and review.  
And about the reviews, come on guys, if you don't like it go away, don't leave stupid flames that no one cares about.  
It just makes you look stupid~

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Forrest green eyes lazily blinked open, squinting in the bright light trying to see where he was at. Something made his vision blur, no matter how much he blinked.

"Where am I…" he mumbled softly.

He tried to move, terrified to see he couldn't at all. Frustrated, he squirmed in attempt to move somewhere, but cried out when something pained in his abdomen, something worse than before.

"Batman! Batman!!" he cried, almost screaming.

That flying rodent did this to him. He couldn't move and his body was seared head to toe with red hot pain. _He_ needed to fix this, and he needed to fix it **now**. He whined again, he was beginning to lose feeling in his legs.

"Batman…" he whimpered.

His eyelids fluttered, barely able to stay open. Before they closed, a tall dark figure came into view. A heavy hand rested on his forehead and a wispy 'shhh…' swam through the foggy atmosphere. It was like everything turned to slow motion…Joker could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears. Someone had done something to him, he knew it. Something wasn't right…

"_You're alright Joker…Everything's fine, calm down." _

Someone was there with him. Was it Batman? Who was it…Batman wouldn't be so gentle…

Joker whimpered softly before his eyes slid shut, dropping him into a crazy sleep yet again.

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"Joker…Joker…"

The clown slowly came to, blinking furiously as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"B-Batman?" he said softly, not sure if he should be wary of the man.

"Yeah…" Batman said blatantly.

Joker tried moving his arms again; thankfully he was able to this time. Was what happened before a dream? Or was that real…?

He sat up slowly, in case there was something still holding him down. Although he was able to, the pain was unbearable. Monitors attached to him began to beep louder and faster as his heart raced. Red hot pain seared through his entire body. Joker cried out before falling back down to the bed.

"Sit still." Batman said harshly, "They'll have to strap you down to the bed if you can't."

Joker whimpered softly. The thought of being in pain _and _unable to move made him more than obedient. Usually he didn't mind pain, but this was too much, even for him.

"What's going on?" he said weakly.

Batman sighed heavily.

"Other than your knife wounds, you have a bad reaction to the morphine…You didn't stop bleeding for over an hour Joker. You lost a lot of blood." He pointed to a drip hanging on the rack next to the bed, "You've got a blood drip and a saline drip. They said you've got those left and then you'll be fine. Your cuts are stitched and they fixed a couple broken ribs they found in an x-ray. As well as a puncture wound in your right lung, a shard of bone from your rib went through it." Batman's voice was devoid of emotion, simply listing what was physically wrong with the clown.

Joker couldn't help suppress the loud fit of giggles, although it didn't take much for him to start coughing. A vile grin stretched the scars around his mouth, twisting it in a darkly unnatural way.

"Well aren't you the lucky…little Bat~" he giggled, pausing every now and then to cough, "You don't want to kill me, but you won't hesitate to break me to pieces."

Even though he was laughing, his words were bitter and cut right through the Bat.

"What would you have done if I did die, Bat?" Joker said softly.

Batman cringed at the thought. Since when did a madman start making perfect sense?

"I…don't know." His voice was barely over a whisper.

Joker grunted at the response. Of course he wouldn't, Bats doesn't kill. The day he does, he'd probably kill himself for it. Joker didn't see why. It was so easy and solved so many problems quickly. He gently sat up, inhaling sharply to keep another cry down. His shaky hands found their way to Batman's face, holding it and forcing him to look at him.

"You don't…get it…Bat." He muttered, emerald eyes dark in utter seriousness, "It's so easy, yet you can't bring yourself to even think of it…"

Bruce found his hands on Joker's, staring blankly forward to the painted face in front of him. He couldn't think straight with Joker that close to him. He was distracting to say the least. Eventually his mind came back to him, forcing him back to his senses. He pulled Joker's hands away from his face and stood. Pressing a call button, it's wasn't long before a nurse came in to check. Batman closed the curtain, hiding Joker from view.

"What…C-can I do for you uh…sir?" she asked, not sure what to make of the masked vigilante in front of her.

"I need Dr. Lybeck in here as soon as possible." He said flatly.

The small nurse simply nodded and hurried off to find the requested doctor.

Returning back to Joker's bedside, he took a quick glance over his body to make sure nothing was bleeding. He didn't sit, just stood and watched the rise and fall of Joker's chest. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, unable to sort them all out for now. What would he have really have done if Joker had died…? He couldn't even find an excuse. His thoughts were cut short as the doctor entered the room. He had helped stabilize Joker the night before and was threatened by Batman to keep it quiet. The entire hospital would be in panic if they knew just who was staying in that room.

"What wrong?" Dr. Lybeck stated just as flatly as the masked man, not at all thrilled by the vigilante and his patient.

"Is he stable enough to take back?"

The doctor jumped at this.

"**_Stable? _**This man was centimeters away from death, and you ask if he's **_stable_** enough to take out of the one place keeping him alive? Now, I know he's a mass murderer and all, but he's still my patient and I'm the one responsible for him."

Not surprised in the least, Batman bit right back at the doctor with his own argument.

"That doesn't matter doctor. I need to get him out of here as quickly as possible. You know that just as well as I."

Dr. Lybeck sighed, rubbing his temples. He was too old for such extreme problems at this hour.

"Fine; But he needs to stay down. That means bed rest for at least a week," he pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket he had handy for the next time he saw the two, "He needs one of the antibiotic pills every day until they're gone. If he doesn't take them, his lung won't heal properly and he will most likely die. If he doesn't stay on bed rest, again his lung won't heal properly. You understand, do you not?"

Bruce nodded and pocketed the bottle of pills to his belt. He waved the doctor off with a quick 'thank you' and turned back to Joker. Pulling back the curtain he found the man asleep, his features relaxed and gentle. An odd surprise from what Bruce was used to. He carefully unhooked the machines from the clown's body. The heat rate monitor fretted when it was unhooked, beeping loudly in alarm. Batman turned it off before a worried nurse came inspecting. He unhooked the IV lines from his arms and set them to the side. Picking the clown up, he turned his head so his painted face was hidden in his chest and used his cape to cover his body. He called Alfred from the phone in his cowl, telling him he was on his way back, and sent the tumbler on autopilot to the back of the hospital.

As he moved through the floors, he stayed silent and hid in empty hallways. Every once in a while, there would be an open door, the patient inside would give a surprised gasp as he passed by. It didn't take long to reach the back of the hospital, evading a few nurses on smoke break and arriving at the tumbler. The bulky vehicle hissed open. It was difficult to fit Joker in without stretching him too far and rupturing the doctor's work. After he was strapped in, Bruce climbed in the other side and eased out of the alleyway, startling the nurses on break quite a bit.

The ride back was difficult, from trying to evade patrol cars and trying to evade the roaring thoughts in his head. Batman was getting restless. He wanted to just shake the Joker awake and force him to tell what was going through that feeble mind of his, but decided against it.

Not long after, the tumbler returned to its home in the cave. Bruce collected the still-sleeping Joker and carefully brought him into the holding cell. He couldn't decide whether he should stay in there with Joker in case he awoke in a fury like he did earlier, or go and keep an eye on him with the monitor. Eventually he decided on staying. It would be trouble if he woke again thrashing about and tore the sutures in his lung. Bruce sighed and took up a chair at the side of the bed. He unhooked the cape from the suit and dropped it to the floor along with his gloves and gauntlets. He debated yet again whether he should take the cowl off. Joker might see him when he woke up, but he could tell him it was the drugs and he was hallucinating. Yes that would work well enough. He peeled the Kevlar from his face, inhaling sharply once he felt the cool air on his face. He dropped the mask to the floor, leaning back on the chair and trying to relax. His mind was still filled with Joker's question, turning it over and over trying to make an answer for him. He had never killed anyone, and the one time he tried, he was denied the chance as someone else took it. That brought up another troubling thought for Bruce. What would he be like now if he had shot that man? Would Batman even exist? And without Batman, would Joker have come upon this world? His mind was flooded with tearing thoughts. He just wanted them to leave him be, to let him sleep in peace.

A muffled moan came from the pale body in front of him, bringing him back to the real world. He reached for the cowl, but left his fingers hovering just over it. Joker turned towards Bruce, eyes half open. Bruce quickly slid the cowl back on before Joker awoke completely. He watched intently as Joker slowly opened his eyes to take a look at his captor. Emerald hues were murky with sleep as they gazed up to Batman. The look he was given made Bruce's heart skip a beat. Joker looked like a small abused boy, holed up with cuts and scrapes everywhere. Bruce turned away from him, not wanting to meet such a pathetic gaze.

Seeing him turn away from him made Joker's heart drop even further. How could that man be so unresponsive? Joker sat up, ignoring his body screaming at him to stop. A slim, pale hand reached out and grasped weakly onto Batman's wrist. He slid himself out of the bed, starting carefully to the other's lap. He sat and hooked his arms behind Batman's neck, leaning in to his chest. Bruce sat in shock, wondering what the crazed clown was doing now. It took everything he had to keep from pushing him off again. Joker pressed himself against the hard, Kevlar encased Batman. Bruce caught the sound of Joker mumbling something inaudible. He rested his hands on the slighter man's hips, trying to coax him off without hurting him.

"Joker…" he growled softly, trying not to be too harsh, but assertive nonetheless.

"Just don't talk Batman…Let yourself relax for once…" The clown purred in a hoarse voice.

His hands ran lightly over the hard casing of Batman's chest, exploring and seemingly trying to comfort the other man. Bruce didn't know what to do. His mind was fighting between wanting to let Joker do what he wanted and wanting to put him back in the bed and strap him down. He decided against the latter. He didn't let himself relax entirely, lest Joker had something else in mind.

Joker pulled himself close to him, pressing his chest to the others. There had to be something around the Bat that would make him relax. He was so tense it was ridiculous. The clown rotated his hips down into Bat's, shivering under the pressure. He felt the man go rigid under him, the hands on his hips grabbed tighter, as if to bruise him. Joker's backwards nerves took the bruising pain as another stimulant, making him moan weakly. That made Bruce stop; his hands dropped and went to pry the clown's hands from his back. There was something about that longing moan that frayed Bruce's nerves; he just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Get back in bed." He growled.

He stood and picked Joker up, setting him back in the bed. He set the chair back and grabbed his gloves. Without a second glance, he exited the cell leaving the clown to himself.

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	7. Remove Our Masks

**NOT CRAZY****  
Chapter 7**

I'm so sorry, my lovely readers, for such a ridiculously long delay D:  
Life has not been easy on me as of late.  
School and work have limited the amount of time I can put into this, which disappoints me quite a bit.  
But anyhoo, this chapter is much longer than the previous ones, and therefore took a bit longer to write and type up.  
So as always, enjoy and don't forget to review~

ALSO: Would anyone like to be my editor? That would be positively lovely x3

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Bruce didn't sleep at all. His mind was racked with thoughts of the Joker, all unpleasant. From the hospital to earlier that night, his mind wouldn't stop to give him a moment's peace. At first he would only run over the questions Joker had presented, but eventually they ran into the most recent events. Joker's strange behavior earlier made Batman uneasy. He was used to the usual Joker, running amuck trying to take over Gotham. But a Joker that tried to take over his body…that was unnerving. He didn't know how to react from such gentle, sensual touches from the clown. He tried to make himself believe it was the drugs still taking their toll, but something told him that wasn't it. He sighed, his head aching from thinking too long and too hard. He glanced over to the clock, not being able to see the sun in the cave. It read 6:17 AM. No sleep would only make him more irritable, especially with Joker around. He rolled over and curled up in the blankets. A few minutes would be better than none at all. Using the relaxing techniques as best he could, it wasn't long before he was asleep.

Although he slept, he didn't sleep well. Joker kept running into awkward dreams of unknown thoughts, possibly log lost memories. They were gruesome and dark, some taking place in dungeon type sells. Flashes filled his mind occasionally, blinding and confusing him more; eventually his dream self ended up in a dark corner, shivering, bleeding, and cold. And if the nightmare could possibly be any worse, a tall, dark figure swallowed his vision. The frightened clown was hysteric, kicking and screaming to get the other creature away from him. Claw-like nails scratched and dug into the black figure before it snatched his hands at the wrists. Joker only went more insane. Screaming louder, kicking harder, and now practically trying to break his arms to get away. The figure stood and pressed him to the wall, keeping him immobile now. In between raged cries, Joker heard a faintly familiar voice. A welcome scent invaded his nostrils. His eyes finally adjusted, sliding open now. Ice cold blue eyes captured his. Releasing him wrists, Joker threw himself forward, his arms wrapping around the scent and feel of Batman. The clown's body trembled uncontrollably against Bat's.

"Joker…" Bruce growled softly, not sure if Joker was awake yet.

The clown said nothing. He only pressed harder into his chest, unable to stop his body's shaking. Brice held Joker to him, his protective instinct taking over his logical thinking. The harlequin had succeeded in sending his mind racing yet again. He was awake for barely an hour before he noticed Joker's hysterics. What was it that Joker was so afraid of? The moment Bruce walked into the room Joker screamed and his in a corner. He sounded as if there were someone brutally torturing him, tearing him apart from every angle. Why? Batman's mind couldn't stop thinking. Last time Joker was sleeping he had hallucinated again, not as violently as this, but he had nonetheless.

"Joker…answer me." He murmured.

Joker stirred slightly before sitting up. That terrified look in his eyes had disappeared. The usual mischievous sparkle had returned.

"What's this Batty?" he purred, cracking his neck, "Can't keep your hands off me long enough to let me sleep?"

Bruce couldn't believe his ears. The clown's extreme mood swing had winded him.

"Excuse me?!" he growled, "Did you not see what you just did?!"

Joker's eyes narrowed at the accusation.

"What _I_ did? Says the man coming in here and trying to break something else." He seethed, glaring daggers at Batman.

He couldn't take it anymore. Bruce stood and dragged the clown out of the cave, barely allowing him time to stand. He forced the pale man to face a monitor; an image of the cell filled the screen. Pushing a few buttons, the feed rewound until a fuzzy image of Joker sleeping came into view. Batman pushed play and held Joker in front of the screen.

"See for yourself. This was half an hour ago." He growled.

Joker tensed as he saw his image roll around on the screen. Bat pushed a couple more buttons and a volume came up. Joker's helpless whimpers and cries could be heard over the intercom.

'_What are these…? This isn't me…"_ his thoughts were screaming at the video, telling him it was all wrong.

"Joker…you're trying to say you don't remember any of this? Batman muttered, appalled at Joker's reaction.

Joker wriggled free of Batman's grasp, turning to face him. Without warning, a hard punch connected with Bat's exposed jaw. His chest heaved with frustration as he stood over Batman, fully asserting himself.

"I don't know _how_ you got that, or how you made it. But I think I'd remember myself acting like _that,_" his words dripped with acid, his body shaking with anger.

He couldn't stand it anymore. If Bats was set to humiliate him then he would set to make his life miserable. He lunged into Bat's chest, straddling his hips and setting a furious round of punches and scratches to his face and chest. Bruce, taken by surprise, simply held his arms up until Joker was done. It wasn't long before Joker's injured body failed him, pushed over the limit. Landing one last scratch to Bat's cheek, he slid off him and onto the stone floor. Bruce stood, wiping the blood from his face and leaning to help Joker. His hands were feebly swatted away.

"Don't…Don't touch me…" he whimpered, "You've done…enough."

"You're ridiculous." He muttered and scooped the lightly struggling clown off the floor.

"Can't you just stop Batman? …leave me be, it's not like I can go anywhere…" he gave up struggling and fell limp against the other's chest.

"Can't you?" Bruce stated, "Don't preach what you can't follow, Joker."

He sighed and booted open the door to another long hallway, an industrial washroom at the end.

"You need to clean your wounds." He said flatly.

Joker's struggles were set back aflame, some inhuman burst of energy coming forth and spewing out in the form of a violent fight.

"BACK OFF." He cried, pushing against Bat's chest, "I DON'T NEED CLEANED."

He finally broke loose of Batman's grip, falling to the floor and scurrying to stand and dash away to hide.

"JOKER." Batman boomed after him. Once he was within reach, he grabbed for him, eventually succeeding in getting a hand around Joker's skinny neck. Barely without strangling him, he held the frantic man against his chest, holding strong enough to him that he couldn't move only twitch vigorously.

"NO." a muffled scream leaked out between the fingers crushing his windpipe.

Batman pressed just hard enough to send him unconscious. He barely was able to keep him up as he fell limp in his grasp. He lowered Joker to the floor and sat beside him. He was out of breath now, and his face and chest stung from another round of punches and scratches. He glanced over to the other; he was nothing but an embodiment of hysteria. First the video, now this; why the hell had Joker reacted so violently to both? Batman figured someone could remember something like that, but then again, Joker wasn't a normal person to begin with.

Bruce sighed and brought his hands to his face, his fingers slipping under the edges of the cowl and pushing it away from his skin. The cool air of the cave was welcoming. He breathed deeply, sighing faintly. He set the cowl down on the ground and stood, looking over Joker to figure out how to clean him without waking him up or hurting him more. He bent and picked him up, cradling him against his chest. A tiny sigh was pushed form his lungs as they were pressed. Bruce carried him into the bathroom and laid him on the floor. He took a quick glance about the room. Gathering the items he needed, he set them on the edge of the tub and started the water, testing it every now and then to keep it a decent temperature. While it finished filling, Bruce set to removing the bandages from the unconscious clown. He was glad he decided to clean it now; the bandages were already sticking to the new forming skin in some areas. He pulled gently on each, trying not to pull to hard and end up pulling off new scabs or stitches. Soon the tub was filled and Joker was completely bare of his previous bandages. Bruce carefully picked him up and placed him gently in the water, submersing him to his shoulders. He hoped the water wouldn't wake him.

Taking up a clean washrag, he gave a few squirts of soap onto it and began gently rubbing the bloodied scabs and stitches. The rag was soon dirty with blood and dirt from the clown's body. He seemed to not have bathed in months. The clown was looking more and more animal than man as they were around each other more. He sighed and soaped up the green mess of hair, not noticing Joker's slight movements of waking up. Using a cup, he poured water over his head to rinse, but stopped abruptly when Joker thrashed momentarily before going onto cover in the corner farthest from Batman. His breathing was heavy and ragged as the room stood silent. His breathing and drips from his hair were the only sounds coming from the room. Batman tried to near the clown, putting a hand out to show no intention of harm.

"Joker…" he said softly, not sure what to do with this frightened clown.

Joker pressed himself even closer to the wall, his naked body shivering now from being exposed to the chilled cave air.

"Don't…touch me…" he growled, trying to pull himself in, away from view, "Get out…you're no right to be here. You're…been long gone."

'_Long gone?'_ What meaning was there in that? Joker was mistaking him for someone else.

"Joker…who exactly do you think I am?" he said blatantly.

That though brought forth a nervous giggle from the man.

"Don't be ridiculous…" he muttered, his bottom lip quivering now from the cold, "I _killed_ you. Slashed you so many times over, made sure you were dear. But I guess wasn't enough for you." His voice was soft but filled with utter hatred for whoever Joker was talking to.

"I see…" he mumbled, trying to figure out how to calm him down. He needed to get the clown out of the tub before he contracted hypothermia or a cold…

"Come on Joker, let's get you out…" Bruce's voice was soft, s if he were talking to a child.

The shivering man was reluctant at first, but soon gave in. He figured going with the man was the lesser of two evils. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from shivering. He clung tightly to him, only releasing a moment to be covered with a warm towel. He buried his face in Bat's chest, not wanting to look at him, but not wanting to be put down either.

Eventually they came back into the holding cell. Bruce laid him on the bed and kept him covered in the towel. He brushed a few stray green hairs out of his eyes.

"Stay here, I'll get you some clothes." His voice was still soft, his own mind still running over whoever Joker was mistaking him for.

He exited the room, not shutting the door behind him. He had a feeling Joker wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. He gathered a pair of old pajama pants and one of his plain white t-shirts, along with a new roll of bandages, antibiotic cream, and the bottle of pills the doctor gave him.

'_One a day or the clown dies._' He thought. That one wasn't pleasant either.

Slipping back into the cell, he closed the door behind him to cut off most of the colder cave air. Joker didn't move even in the slightest, not even to look up at his captor.

"Joker…" he nudged his shoulders just enough to catch his attention, "Sit up and I'll put your bandages back on, then you can get dressed."

Joker sighed softly, almost inaudible, and sat up. A few of the sutures were bleeding slightly, nothing too serious though. Unwrapping the roll of gauze bandages, he tapped Joker's arms for him to raise them and reached behind him to start the wrap. He wrapped it tightly; adjusting every so often to make sure it wasn't too tight. Joker sat in silence, not saying a word, making a noise, pr even making eye contact. He stayed blank, staring straight ahead to the opposite wall of the room. His normally bright eyes were now a dull, almost black green. The man's silence made Bruce uneasy. After he was covered, Bruce just sat and watched the clown a moment. Even though he seemed to be looking right at him, there were no emotions at all. Bruce gathered the clothes and carefully clothed him without stretching covered wounds. Joker was as obedient as putty in his hand, again making no sound or eye contact. Bruce was a bit worried now; he didn't know how to deal with this. He could work with a violent, crazed Joker, but not this.

He reached out and set his hand against the clown's cheek, trying to get any sort of reaction from him.

"Joker…look at me." He said softly compared to the usual harsh voice.

Finally, Joker at last made eye contact with him. Although the gaze was distant, he had acknowledged him.

"Joker…" he mumbled.

Joker raised his own hands and covered Bruce's nuzzling against it. What was left of the smeared paint came off on Bruce's hand. He knew he couldn't wash Joker's face paint completely, but what water and soap ran down, stripped most of the colour off. A few white and black streaks were all that was left. Bruce whipped them off with the other hand. Joker flinched slightly, not wanting to be unmasked. He set Batman's hand back on his lap, twitching slightly. This wasn't fair…He suddenly lunged at Batman, knocking him backwards and off the chair. Instantly he set to clawing at the cowl. He snarled and leaned into him.

"If you're going to take off my mask, I get to take off yours." He growled, still scratching at his face.

Bruce tried to get him off, but restrained himself from shoving him off again.

"Joker!" he growled right back.

"SHUT UP!" one last swipe and the cowl flopped to the floor.

Joker stopped mid-motion, gawking at the exposed face. For some reason he was a bit less surprised at whom the Batman really was. He couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"_Bruce Wayne!?"_ he giggled madly, "Ridiculous! Now I know I'm crazy for _sure_."

He rolled off the man under him and went back to the bed.

"Good night Brucie. Maybe when I wake up things will be back to normal and Bats will be back to strangling me as I sleep." He purred and covered himself back up.

Bruce sat up, a bit dazed at Joker's reaction. That was unexpected to say the least. The cowl lay between them like some odd talisman.

"Joker…" he murmured.

The clown scoffed over his shoulder.

"Don't you think you've startled me enough? What are you going to do next? Reveal that Batman and Bruce Wayne are really both a woman?" he huffed and curled up into himself.

Bruce's mouth still hung agape in amazement. He'd love to know just what was going on in that clown's mind. He stood and stepped to the edge of the bed. He briefly thought the scene was quite ironic, Batman trying to _comfort_ the clown about _his_ secret identity. The whole idea just confused him more. He sat on the edge, his back to Joker. He sighed and rubbed his temples. He needed to go back to sleep…

"Joker, I-"

He was cut off abruptly as the other man's arms came around his waist. His hands curled around the other's, alarmed, but not wanting to hurt him. He felt the clown press against his back.

"Joker, stop…" he mumbled weakly, there wasn't as much hardness in his voice as usual.

"No." Joker whispered back, his arms tightening around him a bit more, "Not now."

"Then what Joker? Is this even you or are you being hysteric again?" he mumbled bitterly.

Joker sat up on his knees to gain some height on the unmasked Bat. He wanted to get a better look at Bruce's face, but not just yet.

"No, I'm the goddamn Joker, _Bruce_." He whispered gently into his ear. His hands slipped out of Bruce's and rested on his shoulders, squeezing lightly.

Bruce raised a brow, Joker's answer sounding a bit ridiculous. But then again, the whole ordeal was ridiculous. He moved slightly to stand, but was abruptly pushed back down.

"You're not running away again." He said harshly.

"Joker that's enough," He protested softly, pushing back on Joker's hands, trying to remove them from his shoulders.

The clown squeezed his shoulder, his nails digging under the plates.

"Get out of this," he mumbled, "I want to see all of Batman's identity."

He shoved Bruce lightly off the bed, forcing him to stand. The strap of the much-too-big tank top was beginning to slide off his shoulder, leaving one pale and scarred area bare. The man was a sight to see, tangled green hair in softer curls now that it was washed. His features revealing a much younger age than what he portrayed, the makeup being gone left the scars uncovered. Bruce was slightly uncomfortable with Joker's current state. He felt as if the man before him was just a troubled sociopath, for without his makeup and flashy costume, he looked just like any other person. It made him uneasy to feel that he wasn't keeping the clown he'd known for years, but just another man like him. He made note to buy face paint later on to keep the clown in character.

"If you'll stay put, I'll change." Bruce said matter-of-factly.

Joker nodded and waved Bat off, and sat back down on the bed. He crossed his legs and glanced around the room, surveying its internal parts while Bruce left to change.

Bruce was actually a bit relieved that he could finally take the suit off. He peeled off each layer and placed it back on its holder. From a small closet he pulled a leisure outfit of black slacks and a black t-shirt. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing he felt he should be more worried that Joker knew who he was now, but there was something in him telling him to ignore that feeling.

"_Well…there's not much he can do in his current state…"_ he assured himself.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror. For some reason, he didn't feel like he was looking at himself, but some other man. The feeling irked him a bit, but he returned to Joker's cell anyway.

Joker hurriedly sat up once he heard the door open. He wasn't sure if he was nervous or excited. Either way, his heart was racing a million miles an hour. He sat back up on his knees, fingers jittering against his thighs. Bruce shit the door behind him, standing before the clown with his hands on his hips.

"Well, you wanted me. Here I am." he said quietly.

Joker's eyes were full of excitement and mischief. He reached forward and grasped the man's belt loops, pulling him closer. Bruce's eyes widened slightly, surprised at Joker's reaction. Joker nuzzled into Bruce's stomach, relishing in the feeling of the other man's natural hardness rather than the Kevlar plates of the Batsuit.

"Joker…?" he mumbled softly, resting his hands on the harlequin's shoulders.

"Just leave me be Bat. Can't you let a man enjoy his prize?" he spoke half into the fabric of Bruce's shirt.

Prize? What did Joker think he had won? Was that all he needed; to see Batman's real face? If that was all, then this could've been over long ago. He subconsciously ran his hand through the green mess of hair, stroking gently as he thought. There was something in his mind telling him he needed this man, while another was screaming to shove this man off and walk away. Soon he blocked the latter out and concentrated on just feeling.

"What do you want Joker?" he said softly and sincerely. If he could just figure what he wanted, everything would be _so _much easier.

Joker wasn't sure how to answer that. He knew_ what_ he wanted, but he didn't know _how_ to obtain it. As well as the fact that he didn't want to make Bats leave him. He needed to have this man here for the to pick at himself to find that answer later.

"I don't know Bat," he said gently, glancing up at Bruce and nuzzling against the hand on him head, "I mean…I do, but you wouldn't understand."

The glint in his eyes as dimmed as he felt the other man searching him for some kind of lie; it was an odd feeling, letting him see through him.

"Try me." He snorted, a tiny smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The expression on his face was a tiny bit frightening. It was a night sight to see though, even the smallest smile on his face. Perhaps he could tell him. He didn't look like he wanted to run anywhere anytime soon. He averted his gaze, nuzzling back into Bruce' shirt.

"I want _you_ Bruce." he said softly, barely audible.

The soothing hands in his hair stilled, making Joker cringe and sling tighter to Bruce. It made him almost hysteric again as he thought about losing this newly acquired closeness.

Bruce sat in silence a moment while Joker thought; he though for himself about Joker's response. He wasn't sure if he had expected it or not. The answer didn't seem too surprising to him, but then again he wasn't expecting something so simple and innocent. It wasn't like the man to ask for what he wanted, he normally just took it. Bruce supposed it was harder to just _take_ the Batman than it was to make him cave in.

"You'll have to earn that Joker." Bruce purred sternly.

Joker's fingers tightened around the other's shirt.

"Yeah…I figured as much…" he said softly, barely audible.

Bruce went back to gently stroking the other man's tangled green mane.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, although the silence was welcomed. Bruce didn't feel he needed, nor wanted, to talk at the moment. His mind was running so fast it was tripping and falling on itself. He couldn't think straight, so he decided to just not think at all, just absent-mindedly ran his fingers through the green mass.

Joker didn't let his grip loosen. He nuzzled his head into Bruce's abdomen, he held tight and pulled Bruce down on to him. Bruce stumbled and fell on the bed next to Joker. He went ridged momentarily, not quite sure what to do now, but Joker lay atop him not a second after.

"Just relax Bruce." He whispered softly, "Don't think…just _feel._"

Joker slid up to face the other, glancing to his eyes a moment before capturing his lips, enveloping them in a surprisingly soft kiss. He couldn't stay this gentle for much longer, the natural psychopath in him was slowly bubbling back up after a full week of no use.

Bruce stiffened again, not expecting the gesture in the slightest. Soon, though, he melted into him, his arms wrapping around his waist and back. He felt Joker relax into him as their kiss gradually deepened. His mind lost any thought that was previously there as Joker began to rub lightly against him, the clown was moving like a hungry animal rather than an injured man, his hands gripping and releasing his shoulders and his tongue lapping greedily at Bruce's. Bruce returned his motions with an equal fervor, his hands wandered under his shirt, nails digging up and down his back. It wasn't much longer before Joker was clawing at Bruce's shirt and pants, wanted to see and feel the warm hardened flesh.

"Slow, Joker…" he warned.

"I can't…icanticanticant…" he hummed as he pulled off Bruce's shirt.

"Then I'll _make _you." He growled.

He grabbed Joker by the shoulders and flipped him over so that he was underneath him, pinning him down with his wrists pinned.

"We go my speed or you get nothing." He purred dangerously.

Joker whined and writher under the hands on his wrists, tugging at them in attempt to release himself. He bared his yellowed shark teeth at Bruce, not wanting to be cornered. He snapped at him before Bruce lowered himself onto the feral man, locking his lips over the scared pair below. Joker leaned into the kiss, nipping at Bruce's lower lip.

What was this? Some sort of transformation? Bruce just reveled himself to Joker, but now they were at each other's throats in a whole new way. It was the emblem of irony.

"Bruce…" his voice was raspy and thick with lust.

Bruce met the longing voice with a deep growl and a bite to his shoulder. Joker cried out and arched him back into Bruce. Backwards nerves had their perks. A silvery strand of saliva connected him to the already bruising bite mark. Bruce had a fleeting thought; it would be incredulously easy to turn this man on. Although it would be like abuse rather than sex. Bites, cutes, bruises, all of them were just another stimulant for that dirty clown. Bruce dragged his nails along Joker's sides, bunching up the fabric around his shoulders, letting his tongue travel the warming flesh around his chest. The gentle tongue mixed with his clawing nails was sending the blood rushing to his groin. Bruce noticed this and parted his legs with his knee, rubbing gently on his growing erection hiding underneath the fabric of his pants. Joker let out a muffled cry, a daring grin pulling at his lips. The clown's cries sent tremors down Bruce's spine. He suddenly felt the need to drag more from the smaller man, enjoying the honest moans and cries. Articulating his movements skillfully, trying to pull those sweet sounds from his throat. He slid his hand under the elastic waistband, slowly encasing the hard column in his hand. Joker's hips lifted to meet the teasing hand.

"Aaaaah…Bruce…" he purred, twisting his fingers in his assailant's hair.

The teasing was melting his nerves. Being much used to pain, the gently and warm touches were making him lose himself; well, more than usual.

Bruce was stroking gently at the clown, his thumb rolling over the tip. Soon he pushed the fabric down to his thighs. Bruce ran his tongue down his abdomen, sucking lightly around his navel. Joker was trembling furiously, the sweet grin never leaving his face. Bruce enveloped him in this mouth, sucking lightly. Joker whimpered and pulled a bit harder on Bruce's hair, holding tight and pushing himself into Bruce's mouth. He couldn't take much more of this. Bruce sucked harder as he felt Joker stiffen, readying his release. He held his hips down and braced himself as the screaming clown came in his throat. His head was throbbing from Joker tugging on his hair. He shook his hand loose from his hair. Looking over the man before him, Bruce felt awkward. His green curls were tangled and messy, his shirt bunched around his shoulders. His pants were amiss and his skin was red with scratches and bites. Joker's chest rose and fell slowly and his limps were limp, signaling the man was asleep.

Bruce sighed and ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips of the salty fluid. This was too much. Somehow it was all extremely insane, yet made so much sense for the time being. He slid off the bed and covered Joker back up. Putting his shirt back on, he slipped back out of the cell and set the locks on the door. He rested his head on the door, taking a long breath before heading off. He went straight to the bathroom, flicking on the light and starting the shower. His body felt dirty and sticky.

After a quick shower, Bruce hurried out of the cave and into the front room. Not much of a surprise, Alfred was sitting there with a basket of clean laundry, folding them into nice, neat, little piles.

"Good evening, Master Bruce." He said monotonously.

Bruce gave him a tiny smile, a bit disappointed that Alfred was still upset with him. He had expected him to be nicer for some reason.

"Hello Alfred…" he sighed.

"I take it your _friend _is asleep?" Alfred gave him a sideways glance.

Bruce nodded and flopped down on the sofa across from Alfred, putting his feet up on the armrest. He was exhausted now. Bruce glanced over to Alfred. Should Alfred know that Joker now knows Batman's identity?

"Alfred…"

"Yes sir?" Alfred set the shirt he was folding on his lap.

"Joker knows who I am; Who Batman is." His voice was quiet, not sure how Alfred would take that bit of information.

Alfred's eyes widened a bit at that.

"And how was this found out, Master Bruce?" he said cautiously.

"He pulled the cowl off. Pinned me and took it off." he said somewhat nonchalantly.

"…Ah…" Alfred was at a loss of words, he wasn't expecting to hear such a 'not caring' tone of voice from the younger man, "Well Master Bruce, I'm quite sure you know what my opinion is on that. Now if you don't mind, I've got clothes to put away."

Bruce sighed and watched as Alfred disappointed out of the front room and up the stairs. He rubbed his temples, that headache returning at full force.

"Not even funny…" he mumbled, "God damn clown…"


	8. Let Me Be, Bat

**Chapter 8**

Ahah :'D  
I'm so sorry for not updating for so long.  
I've been a little bit, ah, computerless for a while and school has been killing me.  
But here we are, I have a new chapter for you all :]

I think this is actually a cute chapter, with Joker up to his silly antics, but you'll have to find for yourself~ ;3  
Enjoy! And don't forget to read and review (with some intelligent reviews, okay. No one likes a critic without backup. And if you don't like it, I mean really, keep it to yourself, no one really cares~]

Once Bruce left, Joker only stirred slightly to adjust his position. It wasn't long though before he woke up, tangled and rolled up in the sheets. His shirt slipped back down his chest, his eyes followed only to notice his naked lower half. His eyes widened at this.

"_So it wasn't just a dream…"_ he smiled to himself.

But as he looked around the room and found no Batman…er, Bruce, that smile melted to a frown.

"You certainly live up to your reputation, Bruce Wayne." He mumbled, adjusting the blankets around his waist so he could stand and find his pants, "Who leaves their partner half naked and passed out? Bruce Wayne does, of course. Leave me here alone, meh."

He found his pants in the corner of the cell, slipped them back on and threw the blanket back down to the bed. Now it was time to find a way out. Bruce needed to be smacked around a bit to set him straight, or gay perhaps? Joker chuckled at his own lame joke, loving the irony in it.

He took a glance around the room before heading to the door. He frowned when he remembered the electronic locks on the outside. He'd need a computer to get those off…or maybe a bomb. Bruce might not like that too much though. He wandered around the perimeter of the room, feeling corners and cracks for any loose area. Moving the bed out of the way, he found an air vent grate. He smirked.

"Batty can't leave me alone. I figured he'd know that by now~"

The clown set to loosening the screws on the vent's corners. His nails were long enough to dig into the screw holes, giving him an advantage over most. Not but five minutes late, the grate was off and on the floor with the screws scattered around the room. Joker shimmied into the air vent, ready for an adventure.

--------------------

Bruce had a hard time staying awake. His head hurt and he was exhausted. He only heard Alfred after the revelation, didn't see him at all. Bruce sighed and rolled off the sofa, almost falling and hitting his head on the coffee table. He needed to check on Joker. He didn't bother to look in on him after his shower, which he should have since he had just passed out afterwards. He wandered down to the cave and glanced over the screens. It took a moment for him to realize Joker was gone.

"Shit…" he muttered.

The air vents? Really? Couldn't he have just waited ten minutes? Of course not, he's Joker. Bruce pressed a button to disengage the locks. He rushed into the room and kicked the grate out of the way. He kicked the inside of the metal passage, making the small space ring.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Get the hell out Joker." He barked.

Joker had chosen a bad time to deviate. Bruce was so very irritable at the moment and his head was pounding even harder. He rolled his eyes when he heard a silvery little giggle ring out from the passage.

"Well Batty, you'll have to convince me first. I have no intention of getting back in that cage anytime soon." His voice was more disturbing in the air vent, the sound reverberating off the metal walls and echoing out to Bruce.

Bruce sighed, might as well give him what he wanted. He couldn't deal with much of anything right now. He crouched at the vent opening, straining to see the outline of the clown's body.

"Well then, what do you want Joker?" he said lazily.

Joker bit his lower lip, trying _so_ hard not to laugh. He was shaking now from holding it in. It was simply too much fun pulling Batman around. He was tired and seemed ready to give him anything to keep him quiet and complaint. But what is it he wanted?

"Alright Batty, here's the deal." He was sliding his way out of the air space now, "I want you to let me out. Don't keep me all locked up like some kind of pet." He was all seriousness now. Batman should know how he worked by now. Joker popped his head out of the vent, handing upside down and glancing up at Bruce, "I need to have room to roam Bats."

Bruce was expecting something a little more extreme, something ridiculous he couldn't possibly give him. But simply freedom was something oddly easy for him to achieve. But to have public enemy number one wandering around his home was a little different. He supposed with certain limitations, he could let Joker out. He sighed and stood, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Alright then, I'll let you out. But under certain circumstances," he glared down at Joker, making sure he knew he was serious, "Get out of there."

Joker flopped out of the space, rolling over and standing up. He ruffled his hair to get the dust out and grinned up at Bruce.

"Well what kinda 'circumstances' do you have in mind, Batboy?" he purred lazily, stepping closer to Bruce so he as only a few inches from him.

"Well for one, you stay where I can see you."

"Hmm…Alright, what else?"

"You'll have to behave. That means no touching things you shouldn't, and leaving anyone else in this house alone."

"Meh, alright, I suppose I can deal. Anything else you wanna add?" he crossed his arms and glanced to Bruce.

"Nothing more. You behave and you'll get your freedom. If not then I'll stick you right back in this cage."

"Alright; Not like you to be so reasonable Batty." He smirked and nudged Bruce's side.

Bruce made no attempt to respond to that, just gave him a sideways glance and continued on.

"Yeah? Well don't get too comfortable with it. You're still a criminal, no matter how many injuries you've got or how cute you try to act." He said sternly, making sure Joker knew he was serious.

That statement rewarded him with a biting glare from the clown. He huffed and wandered out.

"Well if that's the case, I'm going to go explore. You can follow if you want, but you wouldn't want to watch a criminal, would you?" a smug, mocking smile plastered on his face as he turned away from Bruce and disappeared around a corner.

'_Such a brat…he acts like he's ten.' _Bruce sighed and followed Joker out into the cave.

He got a glimpse of green from the corner of his eye. He sat at his desk and let Joker wander. Maybe he'd calm down if Bruce wasn't watching.

Joker watched as Bruce deliberately ignored him.

'_Oh, so easily you forget, Bat.'_ He mumbled low.

The clown padded softly towards Bruce, making very little or no noise, he couldn't tell. If Bruce were to see him, Joker would look like a little green haired house cat stalking a flying mouse much too big for him. He smirked and nudged up against Bruce, his hands coming up to rest on the other's shoulders. Bruce sighed, one hand covering Joker's. It wasn't surprising that Joker came straight back to Bruce. He glanced over to their hands. Joker's small and pale to his larger tanned one. Joker's was so small compared to Bruce; bodily he was skinny and almost no muscle mass, and his height was only a few inches shorter than himself. Bruce sat back and closed his hand around Joker's. He exhaled softly, closing his eyes ready to fall asleep again. Joker surprised him, his other hand under Bruce's chin to tilt his head back. He placed a gentle kiss on his lips, sighing softly. Bruce let him do as he pleased. He wasn't in the mood to fight.

Joker came to face Bruce, sliding onto his lap.

"Don't ignore me, Bat." He said quietly, searching the other's eyes for some sign of comprehension.

He wrapped his arms around Bruce's shoulders and leaned in close to his chest. Bruce set his hands on Joker's hips.

"Don't give me a reason to." He replied just as soft.

He had no clue what to think about this situation. This was the man that killed his potential girlfriend, the man that destroyed one of his best friends, and made a mockery of his morals. He shouldn't be letting him this close, but he couldn't help feeling utterly relaxed. Maybe he was just too tired to care, but Bruce didn't feel it was that. Joker nuzzled into his chest, making himself comfortable. But Bruce made that short, as he lifted Joker from his lap. The clown made a sound of discontent as he was removed, glancing worriedly to the other. Bruce saw this and smirked.

"Don't worry, you're coming with."

Joker huffed and clung to Bruce's arm. He wasn't going to leave him now, not after working so hard to get to this point. He had finally broken that wall and Batman was letting him in. Joker was more intent on getting what he wanted at any cost.

Bruce led them to a small room towards a corner of the cave. There was a bed and a side table with a lamp and that was it. The bed was still messy from when Bruce slept there the night before. Bruce left Joker and sat on one side of the bed, removing his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt and his pants. He glanced over to the clown.

"I hope you don't plan on standing there all night, because I'm going to sleep with, or without you." He said, oddly nonchalant.

Joker eyed him cautiously, not sure if he was being tricked or not.

"Is there something you're not telling me? Trying to trick me into getting trapped again?" he gave Bruce a sideways glance, proving his suspicion.

Bruce smiled smugly, and lay back on the headboard.

"If you get trapped, then I will be too, seeing as you wouldn't be even a foot away."

Joker's features softened and he was convinced.

"Anything funny and you'll be sorry."

He climbed onto the bed, scanning every inch for anything off. Finding nothing, he curled up next to Bruce, his head resting on his chest. His fingers clutched in Bruce's shirt, holding himself close. Inhaling deeply in a sigh, he caught a warm, familiar scent. He nuzzled his nose on Bruce's shirt. It was his scent he smelled. He smelled faintly of old cologne, sweat of hard work, and a bit hike the Kevlar of the batsuit. It calmed him, rushing into his lungs and brain with a soothing feeling. How strange. His eyelids fluttered a moment before they closed, sending him to a calm sleep.

Bruce glanced down to Joker. He looked completely serene and comfortably against him. His hand rested on the small of Joker's back and the other covered the hand on his chest. Not soon after, Bruce fell asleep. His dreams were nightmare-less as he slept the best he had in years.


	9. The New Face

**Chapter 9**

Agh! I'm so sorry guys.  
I've written up to Part 14 but I've only typed up to 9…  
I promise to work on this more frequently; I've had a bit of free time lately.  
There'll be the rest soon, I can assure you that :]  
Please read and review this part for now though~

A mass of green rustled against a black background. A few curls covered Joker's eyes as they twitched, threatening to open. A pale hand clenched the body underneath him, opening and closing gently. Foggy green eyes slowly opened, confused at first as to where he was. But upon breathing in, he caught the familiar, comforting scent of Bruce beneath him. He raised himself above him, his hands on either side of Bruce's chest. A few green curls fell on to Bruce's forehead as he leaned closer. Joker could tell Bruce was awake now, his breathing had sped up a little, and his eyes rolled underneath their lids. Joker pressed a kiss to his lips, rousing the Bat to wake and press back. Icy eyes slid open to meet his, a welcoming glance from the usually gloomy Bat.

"Good morning, Batsy." He cooed, a messy smile distorting the scars on his cheeks, wrapping his arms around him.

"Morning," he purred back, "Must you wake up so early?"

Joker glanced to the clock on the side table. It read just 7:35 AM.

"Well, when you're always on the run, playing all the time, you can't really afford to sleep in." he only half smiled, directing that bitter sliver towards Bruce's nerves.

Bruce gave him a warning glare.

"Quiet." He said stiffly.

Joker obeyed reluctantly, nuzzling into Bruce's shoulder. A strange thought crept into Joker's brain. He itched a minute, wandering if he should ask, because he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"So, Bruce," he mumbled slowly, "what are you going to do with me?"

Bruce stiffened slightly. How was he to answer that? He didn't know quite yet for himself. What _would_ he do? He couldn't leave him in his cage for the rest of his life, no matter how much he would like to. _And he couldn't let him loose on the city or Arkham._

"I don't know Joker." He said softly, "What would you want me to do?"

"You're asking _me_?" Joker questioned nervously.

What a strange turn of events. Batman was asking his prisoner to decide his fate.

"Aren't you worried I'll ask something ridiculous of you?" he quipped, a bit annoyed.

Bruce glanced down to him.

"Of course, but I know what you can and can't have." He said nonchalantly.

Joker's brow furrowed a moment.

'_what I can and can't have?'_ he thought.

He rose back up, keeping himself at Bruce's eyelevel.

"Alright then," he purred almost darkly, "You want to know? I want…I want you to treat me like a human being. I want to stay here with you, but I want you to treat me like everyone else. I won't be your pet, locked up down in your basement."

Bruce gazed up to his eyes. He was completely serious. Should he? Better yet, _could_ he? The slighter clown had a certain sway over him at the moment, but Bruce wasn't completely won over just yet. There were still so many things he didn't know, and so many opportunities for Joker to screw him over. But, he wanted to stay here, where Bruce could keep close watch over him.

"Alright, you win." Bruce said gently.

Joker's face lit up, slight confusion in his eyes.

"You're not messing with me? Trying to trick me?" he was obviously wary, his eyes narrow and suspicious.

"Not at all." Bruce said softly.

Joker searched his eyes, looking for some sort of lie. Nothing was found, not a hint of any kind of denial in those icy blue eyes.

"Then let's start now," he smiled widely, "I'd like to get my own clothes, not your pajamas. Although I love wearing them, they're a little big."

The smile distorted his scars, giving him his eerie, familiar face.

"And what would you like me to do about that? I'm no tailor." Bruce prodded.

"Jeeves up there knows how to sew doesn't he?" he pointed to the ceiling.

"Not enough to make you a whole new set of clothes."

"Then we'll go shopping," he purred playfully, "Go out on the town~"

Bruce raised a brow. Could he get away with taking Joker into the city? Even without the makeup, the scars were a dead give-away.

"Can you cover these up?" he questioned, his fingers on the scars.

"If you're still got my suit." He purred.

Bruce didn't think they threw it away yet. It was probably still sitting next to the medic table. It was still bloody and covered in holes, but it was most likely still there.

"Out in the cave, hopefully."

Joker wiggled out of the covers and off of the bed. He smoothed back his curls and wandered out to the outer cave. Bruce sat up, straining to see out the door to Joker.

"Don't touch anything, Joker." He called out.

Joker just giggled loudly and continued out to the cold metal table. He found a plastic bag tied up next to the bottom of the table.

"Hmm…" he purred and prodded the bag.

Nothing living in it. He sat and pulled the boy into his lap. He tore the top of the bag off, tossing it over his shoulder and pulling out the contents. His eyes lit up slightly as his purple suit coat came into view. I was a little sad, as it was covered in blood and dotted with holes. He rummaged through the pockets, eventually producing a palette of flesh coloured wax and a small brush with a pointed end. It looked like theater makeup, and it probably was.

"You again," he said to the makeup, "And here I thought I'd never see you again."

He dropped his coat, standing up and holding the makeup palette to the light.

"You hide my scars, and in this hide my entire identity; Take away my personality." A concentrated gaze bore into the silhouette of the palette.

Bruce stood in the doorway, watching the clown's monologue. He was certainly the eccentric one.

Joker wandered, sauntering off to the bathroom nearby. Bruce quietly followed, wanting to watch the clown at work.

"Mmm…stupid wax." He purred, glaring at the ball of flesh in his hand, "I shouldn't need to cover these up…"

He gazed to his image in the mirror, fingers grazing over the scars. A strange look pulled his features sullen, his glittering emerald eyes now dulling to almost black. The ball of wax was now squashed back into its container. Joker's hands gripped at the sides of the sink and his head hung slightly, eyes still on the face glaring back at him.

"You aren't me. You're not." He whispered to himself, his voice raspy, his arms shaking as he gripped tighter to the sink, "You shouldn't be here. _I'm_ the one living now." His face was hot, salty tears forming in his dull eyes.

His hand balled into a fist. A sudden scream erupted from him as his fist came in contact with the glass, shattering it to the floor. He took up a large chunk of the silver glass, running it across any bare flesh he could see. His upper arms, lower arms, chest, and face were soon split open and gushing.

Bruce was up and running to Joker as soon as he heard the glass break. He hesitated a moment at the sight before him, then ran to the injured man's side. He stilled Joker's trembling hands, carefully pulling the mirror piece away from him. His arms wrapped around him, holding Joker's arms down as he struggled against him. Bruce rested his head on Joker's shoulder, his lips pressed against his neck, whispering to him in attempt to bring him back.

"_Joker…quiet now, you're okay. You're okay now…"_

The clown's body shook uncontrollably. His features calmed though. He stopped struggling as a familiar scent and voice penetrated his senses.

"Bruce…"

The tremors subsided slightly and Bruce lightened his hold on his arms.

"Yes." he said, voice still gentle.

Joker turned in Bruce's arms, holding tight to him, shaking against him. He breathed in, taking in once again, Bruce's scent, calming himself with his warm body and sweet smell.

"Let's get you cleaned up." Bruce held him out at arm's length, looking over the cuts decorating his body.

Joker couldn't make eye contact with him. Even _he_ didn't know what had just happened. He was talking to someone else at that point, it wasn't him in the mirror.

Bruce grabbed a wash rag and soaked it in the warm water. He gently wiped the cuts on his arms, wetting the rag when it got too dirty. He moved to his chest, glad that the few around his neck didn't go any higher or they might've slit his throat. The ones on his face worried him the most thought. They didn't quite get deep enough to split open his scars again, but there was a ragged line just on the flesh. They would heal, but the scars would get more distorted when they were fully healed. Thankfully they had already stopped bleeding and scabs were already forming.

"You're lucky some of these didn't go any deeper…" he said softly, brushing the hair from him forehead.

Joker just lowered his eyes, still unable to comfortably meet his gaze. Bruce set the rag on his lap, sighing softly. This wasn't Joker's fault, but he thought it was…He had registered his reflection as another person, not as himself. Bruce tilted Joker's chin up, forcing him to meet his eyes. He placed a gentle kiss on his lips in attempt to calm him down.

"It's not your fault Joker." He said softly.

Joker finally looked him in the eye.

"Yeah…" he replied, barely audible.

Bruce gave him a small smile.

"Do you still want to go out?" he asked.

Those scars had to be covered if they were to go anywhere, but the fresh cuts might hinder their progress. They were scabbing over already though.

Joker touched the wounds, fingering the old scars and soon to be new. He thought a moment then nodded.

"Yeah, I can still cover these up. The wax will help them heal anyway." He grabbed the palette of wax and stood, a tiny smile on his face, "have another mirror Brucie?"

"Down the hall, second on the left." He smiled back, "will you be okay by yourself?"

Joker nodded and went to find the new bathroom. He stopped mid-step though, a thoughtful look on his face.

'_Forgot the latex.'_ He thought and spun around on his heel.

He wandered back to the room he found his suit in. Rummaging through the pockets again, he produced a small bottle of flesh coloured liquid. Joker held it up.

"There you are~" he chuckled and hurried back to the room he found.

Upon reaching the mirror again, he hesitated, glancing from the sink to the mirror and back again. He took a breath to calm himself, and began working on his face.

He slowly filled the scars with pale wax, the crevices eventually smoothing out flat. Once they were completely filled, he opened the bottle and dipped a finger in it. His finger was dripping liquid flesh as he brought it to his face. He smeared the liquid across the smoothed scars, making them disappear as his finger moved.

Soon his face was perfect and smooth, not a blemish to be found. He took a look at himself, there was still something there to identify him. His green curls made it obvious the Joker still hid under the latex shroud.

"Bruce!" he called out to the hallway, "Do you have bleach, per chance?"

Bruce raised a brow at the request.

"Just a minute…"

He went back up to the laundry room, rummaging through the products and pulling down a bottle of liquid bleach. He hurried back down to Joker and knocked on the door.

"I'll leave it outside the door." He said quietly, setting the bottle down in front of the door.

Joker waited a moment, listening until Bruce's footsteps were distant. Then, he quickly grabbed the bottle from outside. He looked it over, making sure it would be of use to him.

"Perfect~" he smirked and uncapped the bottle.

Holding his head over the sink, he poured some of the chemical onto his hair. Rubbing it through the curls until his hair was completely wet, dripping with the mucky clear liquid. As it dried, his hair began to stick in place and change colour. He rinsed his hair, drying it once it was cleaned. As he glanced quickly to the mirror, his hair was now a light blonde. Not a trace of green was left in his hair.

Satisfied with his new look, he walked out to where Bruce resided. Bruce had been lying on the couch, half watching the television, and half daydreaming. Joker nudged the bottom of his foot.

"I'm done." He said monotonously.

Bruce stirred and sat up on his elbows, glancing up to the clown. His eyes went wide and his mouth hung slightly agape.

"Oh…" he mumbled.

Joker was unrecognizable now. With just makeup and a colour change, he was a completely different person. His skin was disturbingly perfect, as if he were glowing or from a painting…His hair matched the perfect look as it fell in small gentle curls, framing his face. The new look was making Bruce feel awkward.

"Don't give me that look…" Joker averted his eyes from Bruce, crossing his arms.

Bruce sat up all the way, reaching his hands out to Joker's hips, pulling him closer.

"I'm not giving you any look. You just surprised me that's ll." He smiled gently.

Joker leaned down and kissed him.

"Don't lie," he smirked, "Let's go."

Bruce watched mouth now visibly agape as he watched the harlequin saunter off towards the stairwell. That change in appearance had changed his attitude as well. He rolled off the couch and followed him.

"Smart-ass." He murmured, chuckling to himself as he caught sight of the blonde man at the end of the stairs, poised in a mockingly sweet manner.


	10. A New Suit

**Chapter 10**

Guh D;  
I'm ashamed to call myself an author. I've left you all hanging for such a looong time o wo  
The last update was what, two months ago, maybe more? Jeeze…  
Not to worry, it's summer now and I've got so much time to spare.  
Hopefully I can get much more out to you guys. I haven't written any for the story since school finished though, so I'll have to give you what I've got for now xD  
Enjoy and please please review! I get all these favourites on this story but not enough reviews xD  
I love finding out what you guys think of this~  
Speaking of, I've got an MSN account now, feel free to add it: harlequin _ bat hotmail . com without spaces of course~  
I'd love to hear from you kiddies ;D  
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Outside hailed a light drizzle in the darkening sky. Even in the gloom, Gotham City was still busy with people swarming the sidewalks or cramping the streets. Joker and Bruce had taken to the sidewalks. With an umbrella each, they walked as close together as they could without bumping umbrellas. They came up on a little suave store. Suits of high quality were displayed in the window, providing proof of the expensiveness on the shop.

"We're going here?" Joker raised a brow as Bruce led him inside.

"They've been providing my suits for quite some time now." Bruce gave a lopsided grin and set their umbrellas by the door.

A classy man came towards them; his hands neatly folded behind him and his face a bright fake smile.

"Good afternoon sirs, welcome to _Le Reve. _How may I help you?" he said, a very professional air about him.

Joker raised a brow, not sure what to make of the man. Bruce stepped in front of him, taking over.

"Hello. My cousin here just came into town from Chicago. As you can see, he needs a little bit of a 'city' look. Think you could help?" he smiled back.

The man beamed and headed to Joker.

"Ah! So you're a country man looking for a bit of the city. Of course I can help." He took Joker by the arm and led him to the mirrored stand.

Bruce followed, taking Joker's coat from him as he was measured.

"Well now, I could show you what we have to offer already made up, or you could go through the design book and get yours customized." The man said as he snapped the measuring tape back up.

"Lemme have a look at that book." he purred, his hand outstretched.

The salesman nodded and disappeared behind a curtain.

Joker sat down on the platform, crossing his arms and legs and looking up at Bruce. Bruce just chuckled and smiled.

"What? You don't like him?" he smirked.

Joker gave him a sideways glance, huffing and stiffening his back.

"Obviously." He mumbled.

The bright salesman returned with a thick sketchbook, pieces of fabric hanging out the edges.

"He we are~" he sang, "Go ahead and look through it. There's a page with all the fabrics we have in the back there." He sat next to Joker, his seated position the exact same as Joker's.

The two began going through the book, Joker picking out hideous combinations that made the salesman cringe visibly. Bruce sat in a chair a small ways away from the two, watching as they conversed. They looked so disturbingly normal…and a little cute sitting there together like little boys going through their favourite comic book. Bruce was beginning to think he like the messy, scarred Joker better.

"A-Are you sure, sir? I'm sure I can find a design to match those colours…" The salesman was a little put off by the mismatching colours and design.

"No, no, I want it like this," Joker murmured, pointing to the design and swatches. A decent looking suit, if not for his colour choice. Of course, a dark purple and green to match his usual suit, just not as vibrant and noticeable as usual, "This will go just fine with the colours."

The salesman force a smile and stood, saving the page with the fabric swatches, "Well the, while we're making this one, would you like one of the premade outfits we have?" he gestured to the rows suit coats and pants.

Bruce stood and helped Joker up.

"Of course, I'll need something to wear rather than these old rags~" he smiled.

Not much later their order was placed and Joker was dressed in a fitting, leisurely suit. The suit was a simple black pants and coat with a dark purple shirt. Dressed in normal people's clothing, Joker looked good…attractive even. It was hard for Bruce to avert him gaze from the blonde stranger's appearance.

Joker caught Bruce's staring, a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. He slunk closer the Bruce, prodding at his stomach, "What's the matter Brucie, do I look _too_ good?" he chuckled, tugging lightly at his coat lapels.

Bruce gave a half smile, "Smart ass."

Joker winked and patted his chest.

"Thank you sir, please do enjoy the rest of your day. I can't wait to receive my outfit," he faked a sweet voice and gave a slight bow the turned to Bruce, "Come on."

Bruce was left wide-eyed at the clown's suddenly sweet persona. He was quite the actor. Joker tugged Bruce's sleeve to get him to follow behind. They gave one last wave to the salesman and exited the store. The rain had ceased for the time being. Their umbrellas were tucked neatly under their arms as they walked. They were going nowhere in particular, just walking along. Joker piped up.

"What now, Brucie?"

Bruce thought. He hadn't planned much further than achieving the clothing and going home, "Hm…I don't know. Hadn't thought about that," he smiled sheepishly.

Joker snorted, "You certainly are losing your planning ability aren't you, Bat?"

His walk was straightened now, Bruce noticed. His shoulders were put back and his head held high. Standing straight, Joker was barely an inch shorter than himself. The change in appearance was getting to him, he found himself staring again, enraptured in some disturbing sense by Joker's glowing appearance. Suddenly, Joker stopped, turning to the larger man, "You've also developed a staring problem I see." He smiled softly, hands coming to a rest on his hips, "What is it? You haven't been looking at me like this before now."

Bruce doused a blush as he was found out. But he couldn't yet provide a decent answer. He wasn't quite sure as to what it was that drew him to Joker's temporary visage, "I don't know yet," he said softly, barely audible, "I haven't quite figured that out yet." He encased Joker's hands with his own, squeezing them gently.

Joker raised a brow at the gentleness of Bruce's features and touch, "Alright then…" he shrugged and pulled Bruce along by his hand.

Bruce glanced towards their hands, he was growing accustomed to the sight, "So, figure out what you want to do yet?" he inquired.

Joker stopped again and watched Bruce a moment, his face contorted in thought, "I want to go back home," he purred.

_Home…_That was such an unused word in his vocabulary. It had been such a long time since he was able to say he had a home.

"Alright," Bruce said softly, "Let's go."


	11. A Little Delusional

**Chapter 11**

XD! This chapter is stupid…I tried to make it interesting and this came out.  
I don't know, maybe you'll like it.  
It's silly and doesn't really fit, but it's Joker so when would it? xD  
Oh well, try to enjoy anyway, it gets better in the next chapter~ :'D  
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It was a little strange walking home with Joker. He never left Bruce's side, not much more than a step in front or behind him. Usually he'd be walking Joker to a jail cell not to his home. They walked in silence, just exchanging small glances every now and then.

Once they were in the building they entered the elevator and pushed the very top floor. It was nice for Bruce to be back in the penthouse after being in the Batcave for so long. He watched Joker from the corner of his eye as they ascended the 30 floors to the top. He was oddly quiet, something Bruce wasn't used to. The clown's hands were in his pockets and his head was sown, blonde curls hiding his eyes from view. His face was still perfect, the makeup not showing in the slightest. The silence was making him uneasy…he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced to the floor number, they had just passed the twenty-third…27…29…30. The elevator pinged signaling their arrival. Joker exited the metal box first, not giving Bruce a second glance.

Bruce growled, irritated, and grabbed him by the shoulder, pinning him to a nearby wal. Before the clown had a chance to protest, Bruce had his mouth covering his. His tongue delved deep, exploring him thoroughly. Joker whimpered in protest, rubbing against the larger man in attempt to break free. Upon releasing, Joker landed a hard backhand to Bruce's cheek. He pulled at the "skin" over his scars, ripping and tearing it in a truly macabre sense. It looked as if he had been mauled by a feral beast, minus the blood. He threw the pieces of latex flesh to the floor, glaring up to Bruce with eyes of utter poison.

"You'll have to enjoy that fake skin by yourself, because I don't want it," he growled, "If you think just because you're the _big bad bat_ you can pull me around by this little imaginary leash you think you've put me on, the you are so undeniably _wrong_, Bat. I told you before, you are_ not_ my owner, nor am I your _pet_." Joker threw the last pieces of latex and wax at Bruce, not caring where they landed, "You can't make me be something I'm not. You may be a spoiled little bastard, but you can't always get what you want." His voice was quiet and matter-of-fact.

Joker stormed off in some random direction, and although he had no idea where he was going, he was determined to distance himself as far away from the other as he could.

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Bruce was left standing speechless. He didn't know whether to follow him or let him be. The clown's mood swings were grating on him by now. He slowly wandered in the direction Joker stormed off.

His body trembled in his anger. Although he wasn't sure if the reason he was angry made sense. It did to him at least. Bruce wasn't looking at _him_ each time Joker had caught him staring. He was only looking to the painted skin and blonde hair. That's what made him angry. If he was going to have Bruce's attention, he'd be dammed if that attention was directed towards the latex mask. If he wanted to get Joker, he needed to look at Joker for what he was, criminal and all. He wasn't going to play "Bruce's Country Cousin" for the rest of his life…He needed to get some air…

Joker fumbled around in some remote bedroom, feeling around in the dark for curtains to a window or some opening to the outside. Eventually his fingers tapped cold glass hidden behind heavy curtains. He stood and threw them back, wincing slightly as the bright moonlight mixed with the faint city lights. He had come upon a balcony overlooking the city. He unlatched the hook on the handles, and quietly pushed the doors open.

The night air was chilly on his bare face, but as he breathed it in it soothed his raging nerves and calmed his thoughts. He leaned on the banister, hanging his head slightly and gazing upon the city…

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Bruce sighed in frustration. The penthouse wasn't _that_ big, so where could he be? It made him a little uneasy not knowing where the clown was at. For all he knew, he could've escaped and was already out reigning terror…He rubbed his temples. Just then a cold breeze rushed by him, sending a shiver up his spine. He hadn't left any doors open…Joker must be outside…

Bruce quickly set to raiding every room with a door or window. The first few proved no clown, but the last one pictured a dark shadow of a man against a dark blue starry sky. Joker hadn't escaped.  
He stayed still in the doorway a moment, not wanting to frighten the other from his hiding spot. Joker didn't move much, just shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Not once did he glance back even though Bruce was sure his presence was known by now.

"…Joker." He said softly.

The clown shifted slightly but stayed silent. He didn't feel the need to talk just yet. Bruce would need to explain his behavior towards him before he would want to talk to him. He turned his head away from Bruce, making it clear he didn't want to talk.

"You're such a brat…" Bruce sighed.

He placed his hands on Joker's shoulders, pulling him away from the banister and closer to his chest. The harlequin reluctantly let himself be pulled in, crossing his arms defiantly and averting his gaze, "_You tell me not to ignore you, but here you are ignoring me,_" he said softly, his hands wrapping around the slighter male's waist, "What's wrong?"

Joker's eyes widened and his spine stiffened. He tore Bruce's hands from his body and turned to face him, "You _really_ don't know what's wrong? Are you that _dense_, Bat?" his voice shook with rebuilding anger, "You should know, you kept looking at that stupid fake face you made me put on. Gazing so longingly at that plastic shell…" he growled, balling his fists in his hair, "That's not me, Bruce! It's not! You acted so sweet when I wore those covers, but here once they're off, you treat me like a dog in a cage. Guaranteed it's a larger cage than the cave…but that's not the damn point. The point is that you're a two-faced, lying bastard, and I want nothing to do with you! You think you can make up for your shitty behavior with kisses but that's not going to work." He shoved Bruce out of the way and hurried out to the elevator they came up on. He slammed the down button and waited. He rode the elevator down and scurried out to the street, not caring who saw his scars now. He ran up and down the alleys and sidewalks, searching for one store in particular…

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Bruce sighed heavily, watching from the balcony as Joker ran until he was too far to see, "_I suppose I should go get him…_" he thought. He hurried out to the front room and pushed a hidden button to a chute to take him down to the garage quicker than the elevator would. As he went, he kept asking himself why he was going after the clown. He tried telling himself it was because he didn't want Joker ravaging the city suddenly after weeks of absence, but there was a feeling in his gut that was telling him that was wrong by far. He was denying the fact that he was starting to need Joker around. He shook his head to rid the thoughts and pushed another button as he arrived at the garage. He pulled out a set of keys from a secluded cabinet and reached a shiny black speed bike with a matching helmet. He tossed the helmet aside and mounted, clicking the ignition and speeding off out of the garage. He tried hard not to think too much as he rode. He had a mission to complete and crashing now wasn't an option.

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The radio was already pouring out little bits of information about a robbery that had just occurred, It wasn't an armed robbery, the person had gone to a toy store and taken a few stuffed animals, a toy gun with paintballs, and a cardboard cutout. There was a note of a police man dress-up outfit missing as well. Anyone listening would find this report odd. No money was stolen; no one was killed, just toys taken. The only person that wouldn't find the broadcast odd would be the one performing the heist…Joker.

The clown had taken a shopping cart to hold his stolen items and now he was taking them to a secluded place. His stolen police hat covered his eyes from view as he came to the park. The park was simply for walking, no playground equipment, just a sidewalk circling the area and a multitude of trees. Joker set up his little array of prisoners. Ironically, all the stuffed animals were dogs…His cutout was in the image of a male celebrity, he hadn't stopped to see what one when he grabbed it. But now that he looked, Brad Pitt's body was printed onto the cardboard. He raised a brow a moment, no why would a toy store have that? He shrugged, deciding it wasn't important. He pulled the hat down a little, and shoved the gun into the little plastic holster. He turned back to the execution line.

"Alright you maggots," he purred in a gravelly voice, "You're facing your last moments here. What are you gonna do? Hm? Have any last words, you slime?" He turned back to the line, the cutout on the left side of the row of dogs. He pulled his gun and aimed it to the first dog on the left, "Hm? How about you? Wanna say goodbye to your little bunny?" he cackled and shot three times, fascinated as the paintballs exploded against the little dog's fur, "Oops, my bad~"

Joker went trigger-happy and mauled the other dogs with little paintballs exploding in brilliant crimson, until they were gone. Once the gun slicked instead of delighting the clown with another shot, he threw it aside and went to the cutout. He dipped his fingers in a puddle of red near the stuffed animals and splattered the liquid over the cutout, tinting its chest red. Another dip in the paint and Joker smeared it over the cutout's lips, forcing a bright red smile to cover his face, "There Brucie, you look much better now," Had he gone delusional? "You look so much better with a smile on your face," his fingers swirled in the paint again and he brought them up to his own face and smeared it over his lips and scars, "There, now we're both smiling. Don't we look _wonderful_ Brucie?" he purred shakily.

The harlequin embraced the cardboard "Bruce" a moment then danced off, "Aw, look at the poor Joker. All bloody and messed in Brucie's cage," he stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout, "Well let's see…What would the Bat do?"

He smiled momentarily and suddenly set out to crush the cardboard. He pulled and ripped the cardboard apart, littering Brad Pitt all over the grass. The paint on his face leaked a little, a drop slowly running down his cheek. He jumped back with a mumbled squeal as the rev of an engine and a bright light burst towards him. He scurried off to the side of the oncoming vehicle. He watched, chest heaving as the bike came to a halt and its rider stepped off. As Bruce came into view, Joker's eyes widened. He curled himself up in himself, trying to hide himself from the other's view.

As Bruce came towards him he raised a brow at the scarlet covered dogs, then the painted and torn cardboard pieces scattered over the grass. It seemed Joker was learning how to control himself a bit. He smiled slightly, knowing now that Joker was starting to be aware that killing people wasn't the way to exert frustration. He kneeled in front of Joker, the little smile never leaving.

"What's with the stupid smile? Are you happy you're driven me so far as to shoot paint at stuffing-filled rags?" he huffed hiding behind his knees, only his eyes visible.

Bruce placed a hand on Joker's cheek, "Yes as a matter of fact I am," he said in all seriousness, "I'm ecstatic for you to be drawn to this."

Joker's eyes widened in disbelief, "And why is that you over grown rodent!? You _want_ me to be miserable!?"

Bruce just chuckled, annoying the clown even more, "Because you're controlling those deathly little urges," he smirked, "Well, for the most part," he stood and held a hand out to Joker, "Come on Joker. Let's go home."


	12. Kiss And Make Up

**Chapter 11**

LOL Just so you know, I suck at writing sex scenes…D;  
The end is kinda cheesy but whatever  
Next chapter is better, promise D;  
Enjoy anyway, read and review please~  
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They had gotten to the penthouse once again, through the garage this time. Again they were silent, but it was a more pleasant silence. Bruce exited the elevator first this time, letting Joker go as he pleased in order to allow him time to calm down. Once they were settled in, the house stood still and quiet as the two men simply sat and watched the rise and fall of each other's chests. Occasionally they would connect glances, but it was quickly broken as Joker would turn his head from Bruce. As they sat, Joker fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. His stomach growled loudly and they both glanced to the source of the noise, making Joker hold his arms over his stomach.

"Hungry…" he said quietly.

"Well what do you want? Alfred isn't here so it's a little limited. Unless you can cook," he tilted his head down to Joker.

The clown fidgeted a moment, scrunching his face a moment, cracking the drying paint around his lips and cheeks, "When you live like I have, you learn to eat anything you can get your hands on that won't make you sick to your stomach."

Bruce simply nodded, "True."

"I'll just rummage through the cupboards," he said and stood, glancing around a moment to locate the kitchen. He wandered towards the room, flicking the light on. Opening the fridge, he quickly found what he wanted. He plucked a little green basket of cherry tomatoes from the fridge. He popped one in his mouth, tasting the batch before he closed the door. Wandering back to the previous room, he found no Bruce, "What's this?" mumbled, popped another tomato. He scrunched his face; Bruce needed to stop his senseless disappearing, "BATS." He yelled, flinching a little as his voice bounced back at him.

A few rooms away, Bruce jumped five feet in the air, startled by the sudden scream. He hurried out of his room and to the front, "What!? What's wrong!?" he huffed.

Joker sat in a recliner, his legs dangling off the arm. The little green basket, empty now, lay on its side at the foot of the chair. The last tomato rested between his thumb and forefinger. His tongue wrapped around the red fruit, slipping it into his cheek. He then glanced to Bruce and smashed the tomato, a bit of the juice leaked out the corner of his mouth, "Thought you ran away again Brucie~" he chuckled, his tongue darting out to flick the juice away.

Bruce sighed and set one hand on his forehead, rubbing his temples, "Did you really need to yell though?" he said, a bit irritated.

"Well it worked didn't it~?" the clown purred, twisting in the chair so he faced the other male.

"Yeah, don't do it again unless you're dying."

"Aww, were you worried Battykins~?"

Bruce rubbed his cheeks, agitated but also trying to hide the blush, "Of course not," he continued.

Joker slid out of his chair, dancing towards the larger man, "You're lying," he said silkily, brushing against Bruce's.

"Let it be Joker…" he sighed, watching as Joker moved, slightly curious as to what he was up to.

"Aw, now why would I want to g and do that? You know how much…fun you are," he chuckled, one hand on Bruce's stomach as he encircled his waist with the other.

"You're pushing it, Joker…" he warned weakly.

Even as he protested, Bruce couldn't deny the warmth growing steadily in his stomach. He wrapped his hand around Joker's thin wrist, prying it off his waist. Joker pouted, one peachy bottom lip jutting out rather pathetically.

"You're so cruel Batty. Tease me with a handjob earlier today and now you want nothing to do with me. What happened to that _sexy_ fervor you had not but an hour ago, what with pinning me against walls and whatnot," he pressed himself firmer against Bruce's chest, their lips nearly touching.

Bruce tried his hardest not to just throw him down right then and there. For a mass-murderer, he sure did know when to push the right buttons to get him hot, "Says the clown who just had a hissy fit not but ten minutes ago," Bruce purred, returning the pressure in full.

"Touché," Joker sighed, twisting his wrist in the other's grasp.

After a moment of intense stares and deepening silence, their mouths were covered. Bruce pushed the clown down to the floor, pinning his arms above his head. His free hand slid up his stomach, pushing his shirt up as he moved.

"You're so spoiled," Joker cooed as he glared down towards the other, "Always get what you want don't you?"

His voice had become breathy and low. Bruce tried not to hear him, he didn't want to hear Joker's thoughts right now…He pushed a bit harder on his wrists, "Quiet," he warned softly.

Joker huffed and left his mind to wander, concentrating on feeling. Bruce placed rough licks and bites over his torso. The clown's pale skin was laced with more than a few scars. Bruce ran his fingers across a couple of the larger ones, wondering if it was he who had made them. There had been quite a few times when after he had retrieved the clown, he was bleeding; perhaps broken. It mattered not though, as they were irreversible and there wasn't a thing he could do about them now. Bruce then returned to ravishing Joker's body, his fingers tugged at the button on the clown's pants, pulling them down and off. A tiny gasp slipped from the painted ruby lips. It only then occurred to Bruce that his own face was probably reddened around his mouth. A few bare spots appeared on Joker's as they kissed and licked the paint away. Bruce paused a slight moment, hopefully the paint was non-toxic. It wasn't his usual grease-paint after all.

Bruce ceased his thoughts and instead bent down, enveloping one nipple with his mouth, sucking and licking it until it hardened, then moved to the other, treating it the same. Tiny moans escaped from his captive, exciting him further. Carefully maneuvering himself between Joker's legs, he pressed them up to his chest, tightening his grip on his wrist a bit more. Joker squirmed in anticipation knowing what was coming.

"Come on Brucie," he purred lustfully, "don't tease me so much…bite me, scratch me, something! Don't just sit there…" His voice was eerily wispy, like an echo reverberating from the mansion walls. The sound sent shivers dancing up and down Bruce's spine. The sound gave a click to his brain, as he instantaneously thrust into Joker's frail body, not caring what he hurt, just making the race towards completion. A sharp cry came from Joker as he was forcefully entered. A lustful smile decorated his features as his Bat thrust again and again into him, rubbing the spot inside him that made him melt, "_Oh sweet prostate, what would this be without you~"_ the thought lolled in his mind, bringing an even bigger grin to his face.

Bruce noticed the eerie smile and began to thrust harder, as if to rid the clown of it. He felt the heat in his groin grow to an unbearable flame signaling his coming release. A low, gravelly groan vibrated in his throat as he let himself go inside Joker. The clown began to cry out louder, but the sound was swallowed as Batman covered his mouth in a harsh kiss. Joker fell limp as his own completion flowed out of him, his body shivering as Bruce withdrew, a mess following onto the floor. The clown weakly twisted his wrists in Bruce's grasp, trying to free himself of the hold. Bruce let him go and collapsed beside him, closing his eyes and letting his body mimic Joker's in a flaccid state. What was that just now? He hadn't been himself for that moment. He wasn't even sure what made him crazy enough to sleep with that insane man beside him.

He opened one eye when he felt cool hands on his chest. Joker fit himself comfortably against Bruce's side, sighing almost inaudibly. The eventual slow rise and fall of his chest signaled that he had fallen asleep. Bruce closed his eyes again. They couldn't just lay bared on the floor of the front room. He wasn't too keen on the possibility of Alfred finding them. Slowly, carefully, he slid out from the sleeping clown's grasp. He redressed joker, pulling his pants back on and tending to his disheveled shirt. He then fixed himself, returning his own pants to their rightful place. He stood, bending down and scooping Joker up into his arms. He had been carrying this man too often as of late…He hurried to his room, fixing the blankets with one hand then laying him down. Bruce stood a moment, watching as the red-lipped man slept soundly, only occasional twitches of his mouth disturbing the still form. He covered him up and went to the wall of windows. Just above the city's horizon, a mesmerizing wall of stars and midnight blue shone bright. The moon stood half-full and high in the sky, shining faint silver light into the otherwise darkened room. Bruce turned back to Joker, now sprawled comfortably, and gently slid into bed beside him. He inhaled, catching the faint scent of soap on Joker's hair. The larger man nuzzled himself a little closer, wrapping his arms around the lithe form, forgetting for the moment what and who the clown was. As if on cue, Joker turned into the embrace, his head resting against his chest, Bruce glanced once more to the starry canvas, and closed his eyes for a final time that night.

"_Maybe I need this…_" the thought came as soft silvery as the moonlight sliver dancing on the floor of the room. He sighed quietly once more before he too fell into slumber…


	13. Flicker

**Chapter 13**

I've nothing to say for this one, except that Joker is NOT afraid of simply bathrooms, it's ones as eerie and pale and empty as Bruce's.  
You know, like the ones you see in horror movies.

The sunlight hit painfully against Joker's eyelids. He had turned towards the windows during the night, and now the sun exposure was irritating him. He rolled back to the other side, not opening his eyes but groaning a bit as he squished his bad side. As he felt something hard and warm just inches away from him, he reached a hand out, feeling the curves and lines that eventually formed an image in this mind of a body. As he ran his hand towards the face, he slowly opened his eyes, not quite sure what it was in front of him. His curious features softened as he saw a sleeping Bat's face. His hair was ruffled, a dark brown mess atop his head. Joker ran his hand through it. It felt soft even though it looked as if it would be knotted and coarse. Bruce's breath was beginning to speed up a bit and Joker withdrew his wandering hands, afraid he was the one causing the respirations. Bruce was beginning to sweat, his eyes rolling behind his eyelids. His brows knitted together, large hands grasping as his chest as if he was in pain. Joker started to panic…He grabbed Bruce's shoulders, shaking them to get him to wake up.

"Bruce, wake up…Bats! Come on…" he shook harder, squeezing him a bit harder. Joker gasped genuinely as Bruce's eyes snapped open and he caught his thin wrists in one hand. The clown's entire body froze and his eyes stood wide. Joker looked as if he were just about to be run over by a train, his body shivering a little from fright.

Bruce blinked a couple times before he realized who it was he had caught. Immediately he released the petrified clown's wrists. He sat up and pulled Joker in close to his chest. The clown was reluctant at first, but his rigidness relaxed as he caught Bruce's scent.

"I'm sorry Joker…Bad dream," Bruce whispered gently into his ear.

Joker's hands clutched at Bruce's shirt, "I thought something was wrong," he was quiet, voice almost inaudible.

Bruce lay back down on the mattress, still holding Joker close to his chest. There was nothing he could tell Joker to comfort him other than what he already had. Even he had no idea what the dream was about, as usual. There were some times when he remembered them, but when he did they weren't anything significant. All he could do was tell him 'sorry' in a most absentminded tone, since there was no way to explain himself. All he knew of it was that the dream had scared him something fierce…

"I'm sorry…" he sighed, squeezing the clown a little close.

"It's not like you meant to…" Joker said into Bruce's chest, calmed down now.

The harlequin sat up on his elbows, glancing down at the frazzled Bat. He had a look that told Bruce he was thinking hard. What it was that was going through the man's mind, he didn't know. He reached up and brushed a stray blonde curl from the pale face. It suddenly occurred to Bruce again that he knew nothing about the Joker. Where he had come from, what or who had really made the scars on his face…It bothered his curiosity, "What are you…?" he said gently, trailing off as his hand cupped Joker's cheek.

The clown raised a brow. What did he mean by that? He felt there was some hidden meaning in Bruce's half-question. He was leading up to something… "What? You know quite well what I am." He scrunched his face, confused by Bruce's inquisitiveness.

"I _mean_ what made you, Joker. I'm pretty sure you didn't just come out of your mother painted face, knife in hand, and a burning hatred for the human race. There must've been something…" he explained.

It occurred to him then; what would he do with the information if Joker told him? Set it aside? 'Oh okay, well then what do you want for breakfast,' wouldn't exactly work. No he needed to put the information to use somehow, but he couldn't think of anything. Maybe he was simply curious and nothing more.

"Well," Joker started, "What made you a giant flying rat?"

"That's…That's not what I asked," Bruce huffed.

Joker sat up and crossed his legs, "Then you don't need to know," he huffed back, folding his arms over his chest. He was beginning to feel like Harvey Dent al of a sudden; everything needed to be fair between him and Bat, the whole 'tit for tat' generality. If Bruce was going to pick at him, he was going to pick at Bruce. Maybe it wasn't so much as he wanted to be fair as he wanted to know. His simple curiosity was all it was, he decided. Batsy asking him questions just gave him a reason to ask. He could figure all that out some other time though, right now he was hungry, "Instead of worrying about baby Joker, how about we get breakfast instead," he poked Bruce in the ribs, signaling for him to obey.

"And what if I don't want to get you breakfast?" he prodded playfully.

Joker scrunched up his face, "Then I'll venture out until I find some of my own. I can eat anything, remember," he quipped.

"Alright, alright, I give. Get dressed and we'll go get something." Bruce sighed.

Joker smirked, leaning over and giving Bruce a quick kiss on the cheek, "It's not like you to give so easily, Bats."

Bruce gave him a sideways look, "Yeah? Well things change," he sighed, sliding out of bed.

Joker tilted his head to the side. That had sounded a bit too serious, "Hmm…well alright," he too stood from the bed, "I want waffles."

Bruce chuckled and rolled his eyes, "I'll see what I can do."

------------------------------

The two were in the kitchen, Bruce looking around for the requested breakfast item. He rummaged through every cabinet and draw for batter mix, but found nothing. They'd have to go out instead if Joker was set on his waffles, "Joker there's none here," he called out to the clown behind him, "We could go out and get some, but you'd have to cover up…" Bruce spoke carefully, remembering what had happened the last time they had gone out. He turned to the clown, kneeling in front of the chair he occupied so he was just below eye-level. He rested his on Joker's thighs, making sure not to frighten him in any way lest he trigger something again. He made himself small as possible and smiled.

"Fine," Joker said quietly, barely making contact with the larger man, "Will you stay in there with me? In case something happens?"

Bruce gave a light squeeze to Joker's legs, smiling up at him, "Of course." He stood, holding a hand out to the clown. He only glared at is, scrunching his face up, "I don't need you to hold my hand…I just said to sit in the room with me," he was genuinely irritated by the tone of his voice.

Bruce held his hands up in a sign of backing off. He was actually sort of disappointed by the man's independence. He was getting a little used to helping Joker around…

"Alright then, lead the way. I'll be right behind you," he gestured for Joker to start off."

The blonde gave him a sly look, not sure if he was to trust this suddenly sweet, neutral Bruce. It was strange; he wasn't used to such a calm manner about him. He was wary of the other for the time being. Standing, he made his way back to the room he applied his make up the previous day. Flecks of reddish brown dotted the sink with dried blood from the day before. The harlequin went slowly to the mirror, watching each step he took. It seemed to take minutes to walk the short distance rather than the actual seconds. At some point, his vision blurred in and out like the fuzzy flicker of an invisible television stuck on that strangely eerie channel. He blinked hard, trying to clear his eyes. His footing fumbled momentarily as his eyes came to the mirror. He caught himself on the sink. He felt heavy hands, one on his left shoulder and the other on his right side. The warmth and pressure from the hands made his body relax a bit, but still his head began to spin. Chest heaving in uneven breaths, he couldn't hear anything but his own heartbeat and respirations. His eyelids fluttered and he gripped harder to the sink. A soft, quiet whimper was pulled from his throat as he fell to the floor, seemingly in slow motion. Joker closed his eyes, still only hearing the horrendously loud thump of his heartbeat in his ears and a slow, ragged breath. He heard his name and then…nothing. Not a beat, nor a breath. Just eerie, deadly, silence…


	14. It All Moves On From Here

**Chapter 14**

Surprise, surprise! Back again, and so quick :D  
I'm not going to ruin this one, so I won't say anything, 'cept I felt terrible for writing it and I'm going to hell :'3  
But, **RoxasRocks0813**- Thank you for reviewing so much, you're such a dedicated fan and I love it! I can always count on at least one review from you :'D  
Of course, I love everyone that reads/reviews/faves my little story, but the above user is always there waiting for my newest installment it seems, and I just wanted to point that out :]  
ON TO THE STORY 8D

* * *

When Joker awoke, something felt wrong. Inhaling deeply, he could smell flowers. Clutching beneath him, he felt grass. Afraid to open his eyes, he slowly slid one eye open, wincing when a bright blue colour flooded his vision. Squinting, he took in the sight above him; it was the sky, bright and beautiful. But it wasn't right. There's no blue sky and flowers in Gotham, so where was he? This was so…strange. He carefully sat up on his elbows, taking in the rest of the scenery. He was in the middle of a large field, lush green and multicolor with all kinds of flowers. Looking down, something else was amiss. His clothes consisted of a pair of blue jean shorts and a large white t-shirt, obviously too big for him. His legs were skinny and almost completely hairless. He brought his hands up, turning them over and over. They were small and slender; _A child's hands_. Quickly, he stood, scanning the area for something, anything to tell him what was happening. His adult mind was in his childhood body…Before running off in the direction of the faraway house he caught sight of; he brought his fingertips to his cheeks. No scars…Not only was he in his childhood body, but he was in his childhood body before the _incident_. What that incident entailed, he couldn't remember, but his heart raced simply at the thought. Crying out, high pitched in frustration, he dragged his nails along his cheeks until he felt blood clotting under his nails. The wounds stung as salty tears slid into them. His breathing was heavy. Suddenly he burst into a sprint towards the old home. It wasn't long until he was at the entrance to the home. He stalled a moment before going in. There was something uncomfortably familiar about it, he just couldn't tell what just yet. Joker threw the thought aside and ran up the old wooden stairs onto the porch. He tried the old, blotchy silver handle. It stuck a bit, but gave under a few hard turns. With a creak, the door opened to a dim front room. The furniture looked decent, not exactly new, but not too old either. It seems like there was someone living there, but where they were, he hadn't seen or heard yet. Quietly, he shut the door and made his way to the middle of the floor. There was a television on in the next room, but there wasn't a picture, just grey fuzz. A half-empty glass of some liquid sat on a little table next to the couch in the middle of the front room. A few pictures hung on the wall behind the TV stand. A few were of a family of three, a mother, a father, and a small brown-haired boy. The parents looked weary and worn in just about all of the pictures, but the little boy was bright and cheerful in all of them. His hair fell in soft little curls framing his round face, accentuating his large green eyes. Joker's face scrunched at the family. They looked so sickeningly happy. Upon turning around though, he froze in place. In the small mirror on the all, the boy from the pictures was staring back at him. The curly brown tresses and bright emerald eyes were _his_. He raised his hand, bringing it to the clotting and scabbing abrasions on his cheeks. It was the only thing that differed from the stills on the wall.

His heartbeat quickened respectively as he realized that the home he was in was from his childhood, which could only mean his father was somewhere around…If he remembered anything, it was how strong a hatred he held for his father. He quietly scurried around the room, looking carefully for any sign of the old man. He heard the sound of a radio or a TV or something of the sort a few rooms down the hall. The channel changed a few times, the click and buzz of an old television, then a new channel. Joker followed the sound into the end of the hallway, hiding outside of the door. A head of dark brown was all that was visible. The rest of the body was blocked by the chair the person was sitting in. The TV blared a commercial…The man sighed and turned the set off. The room went dark and Joker's eyes widened. Suddenly, he was terrified. As the man got out of his chair, Joker ran off to find a place to hide. His footsteps were too loud…

"Jack?" a deep male voice called out.

Joker paused a moment, "_Jack? Is that what I'm called in this place?"_ he gripped his chest, listening hard for the sound of heavy footsteps. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying this think about what to do. A scratch came from behind him. His eyes shot open and he scurried backwards, falling out of his hiding place. The man from the room stood behind him, huge and looming to this tiny little body.

"What's the matter Jack? Playing hide and seek?" the man's voice was gently but the look in his faded green eye said something completely different. The man crouched in front of him, getting to eye level. His hand reached out and grazed over the cuts on his face, "What'd you do here? They look like…nail marks?"

Joker weakly pushed his hand away, "I'm fine…I…I just ran into a tree branch…" he winced at his own voice. It was very quiet and high-pitched.

The older- he assumed it was his father now, stood glaring down at him, "You're lying, Jack," his voice was low; "You know I don't like when you lie. Come now."

The man motioned for Joker to follow. Where he was taking him, the boy hadn't a clue. He couldn't remember anything about this place. His heart hadn't stopped racing since he woke up. His father had taken him outside to the back of the house, facing the woods. There was a cellar door, padlocked, to the underside of the house. His mind flashed block and white for a moment. There was something sickeningly familiar about it. He could feel his heart drop and his stomach churned. He stopped following the much larger man, completely uneasy about the cellar. His father stopped and turned back to him, "Come on, _Jack_. It's time to play." His voice was ominous and dark.

"I-I don't wanna play right now dad…" Joker stuttered; his voice tiny now. He drew in on himself as his father neared him, looming above him.

"You _play_ when I tell you to, _Jack_," he almost whispered the line. The older man grabbed tightly Joker's wrist facing him to follow down into the dark cellar, locking it back up behind him. Joker had squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see what the cellar container, but as he slowly opened them, he found nothing but darkness…his father had released his wrist.

"D-Dad…?" he whimpered softly, he felt tears streaking his cheeks again, "What's going on…?" Just then a very dim light caught his eye. Cautiously, he followed an empty area to the light. His breath was the only sound in the entire place, "Dad…" he choked as he neared the light. Joker screamed as something shoved him down from behind. He was more surprised when he hit something soft rather than the cold stone floor. Frightened beyond belief, he was sobbing freely now, quiet and followed by gushing tears. He tried to wipe them away but they just kept coming…

Footsteps neared closer and he could make out his father's silhouette in front of him. He dove out and caught his legs, clinging to them still crying. The man's large hand reached down and petted Joker's brown curly mess, hushing him gently, "Aw, poor baby boy. Did _daddy_ scare you?" he cooed, catching the little curls in between his fingers, "_Daddy_ will make it all better. Lay down now."

Joker sniffled and unknowingly did as told, lying down on his stomach and curling his legs up under him. He rubbed his eyes to rid them of tears. He was comfortable now, a bit less terrified for now. But as a heavy hand came to rest on his lower back his frightened tenor was lit anew. The hand on his back became two, one of them pinning his arms down above his head. The little Joker froze, his breath speeding to where he was almost hyperventilating…

"Shhh shhh shhh…" his father cooed, "The hand still on his back slid under his shirt, wandering up his spine.

Joker was hysteric, crying out and squirming against the larger man. There were so many red flags going off now, telling him there was certainly something wrong and he was about to pay for his ignorance to that fact earlier. He couldn't remember what was about to happen…all he could recall was that it ended badly…

"Stop your goddamn squirming, boy!" his father growled, shoving his hand down into Joker's tiny spine. A sickening crack resounded…He massaged the area a moment; the vertebra hadn't misplaced or cracked luckily enough. They boy just lay there, whimpering. His struggling was slight, only trying to worm his way out of his father's grasp when he began to undress him. The larger man tore his pants down to his ankles, exposing his backside to him. Little Joker cried out, his struggles rekindled, but his father had a tight hold on his wrists and his legs were pinned beneath him.

"NO DADDY! STOP IT! STOP IT!" he screeched, terrified beyond belief. Without warning his body seemingly tore in two. He was sure someone could've heard his screams by now, but the cellar walls proved to be thicker than he thought. The tiny boy's voice only came in weak whimpers now, his body limp with pain. His father, still brutally thrusting in him, made a swift movement to retrieve something from his back pocket. When his hand returned to Joker's burning back, something heavy and cold had taken place of his father's sweaty palm. He had grabbed a small pocket knife, no doubt with intentions to induce even more bodily damage to the boy. Not missing a stroke, he sat Joker up in his lap, the boy's body limp and barely moving against his chest. The knife flipped open and he stuck the blade in the corner of his mouth, ready to cut at any second.

His father pressed his face against Joker's, "It's a good thing your mother is dead, or she'd be devastated by how seductive you are, Jack," he whispered angrily. Joker's eyes widened at that. That's right, his mother died when he was seven in a car crash. Joker survived and here, two years later, he was being blamed still for her death…He tried to move himself away from his attacker, but quickly he found that a bad idea. The knife at his mouth sliced right through the previous nail marks. Blood ran down the knife and his father's hand. The boy barely made a sound past a gurgle of pain, his entire body was weak from the ongoing assault.

"Oh tsk, tsk, little Jack, now your pretty little face is all cut up and uneven. No worries, Daddy can fix that," a dark chuckled came from him as he took the knife to the other corner of his mouth, tearing the flesh to resemble the ragged laceration on the other side. A ragged, bloody grin was imprinted along Joker's mouth. His eyelids fluttered weakly from the pain in his abdomen and the loss of blood, his skin paled significantly. Joker suddenly gained a tiny flash of energy and outrage as he realized in full what had just happened. While his father thrust into him, wrapped up in himself, little Joker took the opportunity to claw at his father's hand, forcing him to drop the knife in surprise. Joker reached between his legs, grabbed the knife and in one fluid motion, jammed the blade into the man's pelvis. The feeling of the blade rupturing the vital thick vessels in his father's groin sent euphoric shock through his little body. He twisted the knife behind his back once more before the larger man shoved him forward and off his lap, a wet pop sounding as he forcefully pulled out of Joker's tiny body.

"You little fuck!" he barked, yanking the knife from his groin, grunting as a fresh gush of blood covered his thighs. Joker knocked the knife from his hand, shakily crawling over and snatching it up. He stood, his legs wobbly, while the other man tried desperately to stop the bleeding. Joker growled and shot for his throat, the knife out and ready. He missed his target, but the blade crushed into the man's collarbone. A loud scream erupted from the man's throat, and he clawed at the new wound as Joker withdrew the knife, falling backwards. Joker began to thrust the knife blindly, slashing and penetrating his skin in random areas. He screamed wildly, too much adrenaline gushing through his veins to feel the slashes on his cheeks pull further. The small boy had all intentions of finishing him off…Soon though, the male's body fell limp, practically drained of blood now, the heart beating softly as it slowly fell silent.

The boy was sobbing now. He was covered with blood and his body was utterly weak. He needed to get out…but he needed to rid of the body too. He stood carefully, righting his clothes so he didn't trip over them in his weakened state. Joker's little brown curls were matted with blood and sweat and tears.

He couldn't remember what happened after that…perhaps it was best. Joker slowly felt his way down the short hallway to the entrance of the cellar, leaving the body in where it lay in whatever condition he left it in. He tried to shove the door open, barely getting it in his pathetic condition. With a tiny whimper, he fell to the ground just outside the door. His cheeks stung from the jagged slashes on his cheeks and in his mouth. The grass was cool and damp, the sun falling slowly behind a hill, painting the sky with gentle pinks, oranges, and reds. It was so…ironic. While his body paled from the blood loss, his father dead by his hand…the sky was still sickeningly beautiful. The sky cared not that death was saturated into the dirt in the cellar; it was heartless and cruel in its beauty. And it occurred then to the young Joker, life cared not what happened to him. It would always carry on. It cared not that he was miserable, it would always continue. This revelation brought a bitter little smile to his face, ignoring the searing pain it caused. With tears dripping to the ground, he closed his eyes, laughing, and let the sky _move on._


	15. Wake Up

**Chapter 15**

Alright, so, I only have up to this chapter finished and ready to type.  
I haven't written in NC for at least a month and a half (since school ended), so the 16th chapter is still unfinished.  
With my free time, I'll have to start writing in it again.  
I wouldn't want to leave you all hanging until the end of August when school starts up again xD;  
But until then, expect delays in new chapters :'D  
In the meantime, re-read it or something xD Send it to your fellow Batty/J lovers and have them read.  
I'll try my hardest to put out new chapters for you all :]

* * *

When Joker woke next, he wasn't in a field, nor was he able to see the ever-moving sky. He was back in familiar settings where he saw the dark shadow of a man beside his sleeping place; where ever that was. He scrunched back into a corner of the bed; as far back as he could so as to get away from the man. He couldn't tell if he was still a child or not. The fear from before with the larger male hadn't dissipated.

"No...I _just_ killed you and left you in the cellar…How could you…how are you standing here…" his voice was small and hysteric, a little nervous giggle slipping out. His whole body shook; his eyes wide and darting from place to place. Nervous laughter wouldn't stop and he kept scraping at the bed, trying to push himself back into the corner as far as he could and further. A large hand reached forward for him. He whimpered, pressing his back hard into the wall, "No no no…Don't…touch me," he squeaked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

The hand landed on his knee and squeezed lightly, "Joker…wake up."

The clown stopped trying to get away, somewhat recognizing the voice.

"Come on, you're alright now Joker."

"Bats…?" Joker piqued quietly, slowly opening his eyes now. The other male scooted closer into the light for Joker to see him, "Yes it's me," Bruce smiled softly, "Come here now.

Bruce climbed up onto the bed when Joker didn't move. The blonde immediately climbed into Bruce's lap, still trembling subtly. He clung tightly to Bruce's chest, not wanting to let go in the slightest.

"Joker, you were knocked out for two days…" Bruce squeezed Joker gently, "You were screaming while you slept and you wouldn't wake up."

"Jack…he called me…Jack…" Joker mumbled deftly.

"Jack?" Bruce glanced down to the trembling man, "What were you dreaming of, Joker?" A moment of silence…the hand on his shirt gripped tighter.

"My father…" Joker said so quietly Bruce barely heard him, "…and what he did to me…"

"What he did to you?" Bruce raised a brow.

"My scars, Bats…" he subconsciously pressed angrily down on Bruce's chest. Bruce moved to cover it with his own, entwining their fingers.

"Would you tell me…?" he asked gently.

Joker hesitated a moment, his breath visibly hitching, "Not now…I couldn't take it twice in the same day," he said weakly.

"Fair enough," Bruce hugged Joker close and kissed the top of his head, "Will you be okay for now? Do you need to go back to sleep?"

Joker sat up quickly, his eyes wide with genuine fright, "NO! If I go back to sleep _he'll_ come back…"

Bruce lay down with Joker still in his arms, carefully calming him by rubbing his back, "Sorry…I won't make you," he whispered into Joker's ear.

Joker just closed his eyes and let himself relax against Bruce's chest. His breathing was slowing to a normal speed, his heartbeat finally under control. He didn't want to go back to sleep due to fear, but warm against Bruce, he felt like he could. Bruce seemed to notice this, "It's alright, you can go to sleep. I won't go anywhere, I'll stay right here with you," his voice was gentle and sincere.

Joker glanced up to see the other's face. He was truthful, but the clown was still worried to sleep. If he had that dream again or something like it, he didn't know if his "sanity" would hold. Even as he protested internally, his eyelids were threatening to slide closed, "Alright…" he mumbled into Bruce's shirt, "But you have to stay right here, no matter what happens of how long I sleep, you _have_ to stay…" Joker's voice was heavy with sleep.

"Of course, I'll be here the whole time," Bruce smiled a tiny bit, subconsciously happy that Joker was depending on him lately.

"…Alright," Joker agreed reluctantly. He made himself comfortable against Bruce's body, curling up on his side. It wasn't long before he was deep asleep. Bruce's smile never faded. He gently ran his hand up and down Joker's back, delighted in the soft purr-like sounds he subconsciously emitted. The clown seemed to be so much more at easy when Bruce was there lately. The thought made the smile on Bruce's face widen; his mind at ease just as much as Joker's at the moment. If only he wouldn't have to worry about Joker's ability to stay in this submissive and harmless state 24/7, then they would be so much more comfortable together. Bruce sighed, letting his eyes slide shut. The sound of Joker's little sigh as he rolled over was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep as well.


	16. Figure It Out

Chapter 16

A little update for you all~  
I'd have to say this chapter is all about revealing between our boys.  
But other than that, it's a bit of filler for the in between stuff.  
I wrote this pool-side during my vacation so forgive me if it seems a little lazy xD

* * *

This time, Joker woke up calmed and rather collected. His hands stretched out over Bruce's chest, his back bowing and cracking. He situated himself back on Bruce's body, curling up on his side. If he wasn't as awake as he was he would gladly fall right back asleep here on his Bat. He gently pressed a kiss on Bruce's sleeping lips. There was something odd about himself today, he just couldn't place it. But he knew _some_thing was off. He didn't move from Bruce's face, his hands cupping it gently. His brow furrowed and his stomach leaped for a moment. The feeling forced him to roll back off Bruce's chest and to the opposite side of the bed. Bruce wouldn't enjoy it if he woke to Joker vomit everywhere. Joker stood from the bed and made his way to the bathroom, just in case, wobbling the whole way there. He held a hand over his mouth in hopes to keep it down, but once he got to the bathroom, as if on cue, his stomach hurled its contents into the closest container, thus being the sink. Joker's entire body shivered as he saw the porcelain bowl. It wasn't stomach acid, but thick red splotches of blood…He panicked, wide-eyed as he heard Bruce making his way into the bathroom. He heard him…Joker shakily tried to close the door before Bruce could get in, but wasn't quick enough. This wasn't what he needed, another Joker-problem to worry about. The nervousness from Bruce's presence only made things worse as he heaved again, more gobs of blood pouring from his mouth into the sink. Joker looked back to the doorway, feeling more than faint now, a few sour tears streaked down his face as he saw Bruce's eyes and jittery nerves come forward.

"Joker, God what's going on?! Are you alright?" he hurried down to Joker's side as he looked ready to pass out and second.

The clown tried feebly to wipe the remaining blood from his lips, but ended up just smearing it across his cheek, sticking to the scars on that side. Bruce held him close and lowered him carefully to the floor. He pulled Joker into his lap, rocking him slightly and stroking his hair back from his eyes the ends of some strands stuck to his cheeks in blood. Joker was cold and sweating, his skin clammy and pale. Bruce looked to the sink, too much blood was lost; he was going into shock…Bruce was frantic now as Joker's eyes fluttered, his body beginning to go limp as he wandered in and out of consciousness. Bruce pressed a kiss to Joker's forehead.

"_Hold on, Joker. Just hold on, please…_" Bruce fought to keep himself calm…

* * *

After Alfred had helped Bruce stabilize Joker, Bruce had sat pensive at Joker's side, waiting impatiently for him to wake up. Alfred laid a hand on Bruce's shoulder, "He's fine sir," he muttered. A hint of pity in his voice, "His vitals are stable, so there's nothing to worry about.

Bruce sighed, inaudible, shrugging Alfred's hand off. He didn't understand, he couldn't and probably never would. Alfred's thick skull was a pain sometimes, "But he's not _awake_ Alfred. I can't be sure he's okay if he's not_ conscious._" Bruce's voice was bitter, not meaning for himself to be angry with Alfred, it's not like it was his fault Joker was vomiting copious amounts of blood…

"Very well Master Bruce," Alfred noted quietly and headed off to another room. Bruce sat, never-moving from the bedside, leaning forward onto the edge of the bed to brush hair from Joker's closer eyes whenever he moved. Every once in a while, he would stop to take Joker's pulse, it would speed up and slow down occasionally, ranging from 40-160…Bruce would only be satisfied when he got near the same with three takes. Miserable, he rested his head on Joker's bed, just to be next to him. He wondered what had brought on the violent bloodletting. He turned the question over and over in his head, never quite coming to a satisfactory answer for himself. It seemed like days were going by, but each time he looked to the clock it was never more than an hour or two passed. He was developing a headache from the worrisome situation. He never had worried over someone like this and it was riling his thoughts by far. He closed his eyes, resting his head on his arms. He was exhausted. It felt like he hadn't slept in days…he tried to keep his mind awake, not wanting to sleep when Joker was in "danger" like this. But eventually his mind shut down and he gave in to beckoning sleep…

* * *

It seemed like Bruce had been asleep for days. When he finally awoke, he glanced to the clock, appalled to see it was only a few hours since he had fallen asleep. Time was going by so slow. His back was stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position…he sat up as straight as he could. His eyes fell down to rest on Joker though, the sight before him made him cringe in defeat. Joker was with him here so he could protect him from himself and the city from him. But he was hurt more here than he would have been out in the streets. At least in the streets, Joker knew how to survive…in here though, in Bruce's home, he was clueless. Bruce had taken the clown out of his element and stuck him in a place where not only physical damage was obvious, but mental strain proved as well.

Bruce set his hand on the side of Joker's face, his thumb stroking gently over his cheek. It didn't bother him at the moment, that he had figured out he had feelings for Joker. It was obvious he'd rather be dead than cause harm to him on purpose…He lied. It bothered him greatly that Joker had become a part of his life that he simply couldn't be taken away. The expense for the loss of this harlequin would be great, not only for himself, but for anyone that dared remove him from his life. Bruce chuckled morosely. Joker had actually gotten what he wanted. He had pulled Bruce out of reality and into a world where he would gladly lock Joker away if it meant he would not leave or be harmed. Bruce shook his head; the thought was irrational and stupid. He knew, no matter what, that if Joker should want to leave, the he could only stop him as Batman, not Bruce. And Batman's jurisdiction consisted of putting his villains where they belong…In Joker's case, back into Arkham. Bruce's thoughts were pulled back to the now as Joker shifted. The clown was slowly waking up, his body twitching to life. Bruce sat straight up, watching intently as the clown slowly came to, "Joker…" he murmured, "Are you alright?" Bruce leaned forward, his hands coming to a rest on Joker's.

"I…what happened…?" Joker's voice was small and weak, "Why are you all touchy feely? …Not that I'm complaining…"

Bruce couldn't help but smile just a little. At least the clown was still himself, "You vomited a lot of blood earlier…I've no idea why, but you did. As soon as you woke up this morning too."

Joker grimaced, "I remember that part…Blood and acid is a bitter taste. How long was I out?"

Bruce looked back to the clock, "About ten hours."

"Well, at least it's not two days again. Who knows what this mind would create for me next," Joker chuckled.

"I don't think we should find out. Ever," Bruce leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Joker's lips, utterly compassionate to the clown for once.

Joker pressed himself up into Bruce until he moved his lips away, "What was that all about?" he mumbled, half-joking, "You're never been so soft about it before, hmm?"

Bruce stared back to the clown, not really knowing how to explain himself. There wasn't a reason, not really. He liked to believe he knew as much as Joker did at this point. He was torn between his feelings as Bruce Wayne and his duties as Batman. What he felt for Rachel was nothing compared to what he was feeling for this man now; but whether or not those feelings were love or not, he couldn't tell yet. But he did know that seeing Joker like this…hurt and broken…_Bruce_ couldn't stand it, "I don't know Joker. Your guess is as good as mine for now," Bruce hung his head slightly and entwined his fingers with Joker's.

"I see," Joker said simply. He knew what was going through Bruce's mind. It was so painfully obvious to him. He'd finally gotten Batman within his grasp, tightened around his little finger. But even Joker couldn't bring himself to shove that knowledge in Bruce's face now, and that certainly was saying something, "You'll…you'll figure it out," Joker leaned in and kissed Bruce's forehead, "You're the goddamn Batman after all."


	17. This is the End

**This Is The End**

You have my sincerest apologies, my dearest readers.

I've lost all interest in writing this story. It's hard to even get the next sentence down on the page.

I love this pairing, but I didn't plan this certain story out very well.

There's no real end to it, just the two going on forever until their deaths; That of which I would've loved to write, but not in this story.

Please forgive me, friends.

You've all given me such great reviews, and I appreciate that I've still got people reading it even though it hasn't updated forever.

Keep in touch for new stories from me, Bats/Joker or otherwise.

Again, my sincerest apologies to you all~

-C


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